Do You See What I See?
by changinlndscape
Summary: A Caskett Christmas Carol. Can Castle help Beckett know the true meaning of Christmas?
1. Chapter 1

A/N: A Caskett-y Christmas carol, set in season 3. A little angst, quite a few Christmas clichés, and a lot Caskett goodness. Multi chapter WIP, but will be finished by Christmas. Assumes no significant others at this point.

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Can Castle help Beckett to know the true meaning of Christmas?

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**Do You See What I See?**

Prologue: Thanksgiving

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Castle eyed the body sprawled across the department store floor. One cold, lifeless hand was still clutching a stack of fifty-percent-off gift cards. Castle lifted an eyebrow, and glanced from the victim to the team and back again.

"Black Friday, indeed."

He wasn't sure Beckett had ever rolled her eyes as hard as she did in that moment. He feared for the safety of her eyeball tendons. Despite her obvious disdain of his comment, she remained silent as she continued to work the scene. Ryan, on the other hand, just had to chime in.

"Dude, Black Friday is the day _after _Thanksgiving. This is just a good old fashioned holiday murder."

"Yeah, bro," Esposito backed up his partner. "Today isn't any Friday, much less a special one.

Castle waved a hand dismissively. "Whatever guys. I bet the vic here thinks it's a pretty black day."

"I'd agree with that," Lanie's voice drifted up from where she was examining the body, shifting on her knees to get a better look. She pointed with her pen. "Knife wound, right in the back. Not a good day."

"Maybe he had just taken the last restaurant gift card," Castle proposed. Four unimpressed faces indicated that his theory was both wrong _and _boring. Not a flattering combination. He tried again. "I meant... oh! Obviously, he's anti-capitalism."

Ryan coughed out a laugh. "Lame."

"No, he is. Look, he's all in black. He works for the government. Obviously..." Castle paused to connect the imaginary dots. "Obviously, he's out to see what kind of people would be working or shopping on what should be a sacrosanct holiday. He was here to take the moral temperature of our society, and was clearly going to report back to his superiors that we've all lost our moral compass."

"Clearly," Lanie intoned, earning a disapproving glare from Castle and a fist bump from each of the boys. Beckett sighed and crossed her arms, watching him without reaction.

"So his plan," Castle continued over their tittering, "was to report that we've all lost our way because of the monetizing of Thanksgiving and he was going to shut it all down. All the people working here today would lose their jobs, thousands of people would have to wait until December-_December, can you believe it_-to buy Christmas gifts and the world as we know it would end! And then what would become of all of this?"

He punctuated this last bit by gesturing toward a huge holiday display, shrugging his shoulders and holding his arms out to his side, "So someone-some hero- took him down. Saved the day and saved our way of life. We shouldn't be investigating the murderer, we should be investigating our own government for sending this communist into our midst."

He ended with a flourish and a voice raised loud enough to garner strange looks from the other cops working the scene.

Ryan looked at him skeptically, then frowned down at their victim. "Communist, dude?"

"Maybe," Beckett interrupted, pinching the bridge of her nose and closing her eyes halfway. "Just maybe this guy was killed because it's so ridiculous that the Christmas season starts earlier and earlier every year. Maybe the killer was driven to a homicidal rage by all of the snowflake decorations and the cold and the pine-scented everything and the God damned Christmas music! It's still November, for Christ's sake! It's not time for Jingle Bells yet!"

She ended on a slightly hysterical high note that sounded as if it had been squeezed out of too small of a space. Silence followed. Lanie raised concerned eyebrows at her friend before going back to work. Ryan stuffed his hands in his pockets and looked up toward the rafters before wandering away. Esposito slid away to discuss logistics with a beat cop nearby. Castle swallowed and chewed on his own tongue. Nervously, he rocked back on his heels.

"Uh, you ok, Beckett?"

"Fine," she muttered, staring into the middle distance.

"Sorry I was making jokes," he offered. Because he was always joking, but she rarely responded like this.

"No, it's..." Beckett made brief eye contact and lifted her lips into a pained smile. "It's fine. I know you were just..." Her voice trailed off.

"Being me?" he asked, and watched with mild pride as some of the tension left her face.

"Yeah."

"Yeah," he agreed, redundant.

"Yeah," said Lanie, still working at their feet. "Knock if off, Castle." The words were said in jest, and the strain left their little group as quickly as it had arrived. Esposito and Ryan both drifted back from where they had wandered away.

"So Beckett," Ryan said, "you sound like you could stand to blow off a little holiday steam. You should meet us all at the Old Haunt tonight." Castle's face lit up at the idea.

"You're going out on Thanksgiving night?" Beckett asked incredulously, mouth pursed, studiously avoiding Castle's gaze.

"Yeah, after dinner. Jenny might come too. You should join us."

But Beckett was already shaking her head, declining before Ryan had even finished speaking. "Ah, no, thanks."

Just then another detective came up to their group with information regarding the security footage, and they were all back to work within seconds.

Later, at the precinct, Castle was saying his goodbyes to his friends so he could go home and help with his holiday feast, preferably before Martha ruined it. As he was slipping on his coat he found himself nearly alone with Beckett. She seemed distracted, standing near her desk and trailing her fingers aimlessly over some forms, so he touched his fingers to her shoulder to rouse her from her daze.

"Any plans tonight?" he asked carefully. She was a little on edge today, more than one too-sharp comment or misplaced sigh.

She looked up, surprised to find herself alone with him and to find him well within her personal bubble. She stepped back. "I... no. Just work."

Castle couldn't help but frown. "But, it's Thanksgiving."

"Right."

"Won't you see your dad, at least?"

"No. We don't really celebrate the holiday."

"But you have so much to be thankful for," Castle responded automatically, a little too earnestly. He was a little stunned by the suddenly dark look in her eyes. And he realized in that moment that she hadn't been agitated all day, she had been _sad_. His brow furrowed in sympathetic unhappiness.

Instead of answering his comment, she flicked her eyes up to him. "Go home, Castle. You should be with your family." She surprised him by reaching out to lightly squeeze his hand, and then she was gone, disappearing into the ether that is the crowded precinct break room.

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"Oh! Grab the wine!" Castle called, raising his voice over the sound of Christmas music and the replaying Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade. The holiday classics were battling for prominence in the loft and producing a near cacophony of noise. Alexis leapt for the bottle precariously tilting over the edge of the breakfast bar and managed to save it from crashing onto the floor with one hand while the other miraculously kept stirring the gravy.

"Yes!" Castle raised both hands over his head in victory. "No casualties."

"Careful, Darling. We don't want to waste any of the good stuff." Martha swept down the stairs and plucked the bottle from Alexis' hand. She topped off her own glass and tucked the bottle under her arm. "I'll just take this for safe-keeping."

Alexis shot her father a look to stop his sarcastic remark before he could voice it. She had warned him that his being so late to the festivities because he had been working meant that he owed them at least two hours of his best behavior. Actually, she made him promise; had wormed it out of him somehow, and now he had to stand by it.

Castle made the motion of zipping his lips before crossing his eyes and sticking his tongue out at her behind Martha's back. Alexis grinned and rolled her eyes softly before turning back to her task at hand. Dinner was almost ready.

"So, my dear son, no special guests this year?" Martha asked, ever the queen of subtlety. She perched on a stool and eyed him knowingly.

"Nope, just you lovely ladies," Castle replied. His tone was casual, but he narrowed his eyes at his mother as he took a sip from his own glass of wine. She was getting at something, and he would bet that he knew what it was.

"No detectives you wanted to invite? No tall, lovely, smart, brunette detectives?"

Castle leveled her with a glare, but gave it up with a shrug. "I did invite her, but she had plans."

Two sets of blue eyes were watching him now, so he took another drink and shrugged again, albeit more nervously. "She did."

Martha hummed noncommittally. Alexis peered at him closely and asked, "What aren't you saying, Dad?"

He paused, considering. He didn't want to color their opinions of Beckett with his own possibly incorrect conjecture. But, on the other hand, maybe they could help him see the big picture. Choosing his words carefully, he said, "I don't think she had plans. I just don't think the holiday season makes her feel very happy."

"Well that's no surprise, dear," Martha said, surprisingly serious. "But maybe you could help her with that."

"What are you saying, Mother?"

"I'm saying, Richard, that maybe you could help her see the humanity in the holiday season. Help her to see the good. Help her to see what you see when you look out at the world. She's been living in the shadow of a tragedy for far too long, in my opinion. Help her see the sun, Darling."

Castle's head tilted in awe. His mother, for all of her faults, did have a very particular way of looking at things. And at times, she was almost comically eloquent. Maybe he could help Beckett to see what he sees. Maybe he could bring her a little bit of the Christmas spirit. A little bit of what he loved about the holidays.

With a grin at his percolating plan, he downed the rest of his wine and stood to help two of the three most important women in his life set the table for Thanksgiving dinner. Spontaneously, he drew them both into a big family bear hug, eliciting squeaks and half-hearted complaints. He loved his family, and he loved how they made him feel about the world. He hoped in time he could share that feeling with Beckett

At the very least, he could try. And he had an entire month before Christmas to do it.

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**A/N: **YAY, I managed to get this out on Thanksgiving day. Hope you enjoyed it! I expect chapters of this will be kind of sparse until the middle of December when school is out for the semester.

Please review, if you like it so far. :)

HAPPY THANKSGIVING EVERYONE!


	2. Chapter 2

Castle stood awkwardly outside Beckett's apartment, a heaping platter full of Thanksgiving day dinner in one hand and a bouquet of fall flowers in the other. Actually, they were the flowers that had been the centerpiece at his dinner table tonight, but what Beckett didn't know wouldn't hurt her. Or rather, it wouldn't hurt him.

He shifted his weight a little, the leg that wasn't bearing the majority of his weight jiggling nervously, and changed his mind for at least the sixth time in the last five minutes. _No_, he thought, _this is a bad idea_. But when he turned to leave he could feel a combination of foolish pride and equally foolish hopefulness pulling him back toward her door as surely as if someone was gripping his shoulders and forcing him back.

So here he was again, standing in front of her door. Right where he had been for the last ten minutes or so.

He swallowed and breathed deeply, the taste of alcohol in his mouth. It was the night out with the boys (and Jenny) that had led him here. Too much high-quality bourbon had made him sappy, and with Jenny's help Ryan and Esposito had gotten him talking about Beckett.

Big mistake.

Before he'd realized what was happening he was telling them way, way too much about how he felt about her. It started so innocently; Castle had just mentioned that he wished she'd been able to come out with them, and before he knew it he was lamenting their missed opportunities _and Demming _and how much he hated the idea of her home alone on a holiday that should be full of family and friends.

Ryan had suggested he give her a call, which would have been innocent enough. Just a simple check in, a point of contact, nothing too overwhelming. But Jenny-Jenny who Castle had never realized had such capacity for manipulation-had somehow convinced him to come see her. Or maybe it had been his idea, and she had just been a strong supporter. Had it been her idea? Castle shook his head to clear his thoughts. It hardly mattered now whose idea it was that he come here.

It wasn't even Thanksgiving anymore. Castle couldn't check his watch with both of his hands full but it had been after midnight when he'd hailed a cab outside of the Old Haunt. He'd run home to put his care package together, and now he was certain it was closer to morning than night. This was a terrible idea.

Digging deep for whatever bits of his courage remained, Castle decided to go for it. Worst case scenario, she sent him home. It wasn't like he was doing anything detestable. He just wanted to help her find some peace, offer some comfort on a day that was so difficult for her. Nothing wrong with that. Right. Just a friend being... friendly. Regardless of the hour. Yes.

Castle awkwardly tried to shift the plate of food to the bouquet-laden hand to free the other to knock. When that failed, he tried the reverse, but he found it was impossible to hold the large vase and the platter in one hand. Brow furrowed, he inched closer to her door and tried to use an elbow to knock, but the sound was barely audible even to his ears. Frustrated now, fingers clenching tightly around his offerings, he kicked sharply at the door.

Maybe too sharply. His efforts earned him a resounding boom and the door rattled precariously on its hinges. Castle wondered if it could possibly be a good enough barrier against potential intruders. Maybe Beckett would let him replace the-

The door swung open with a squeak and a gust of air and there was Beckett standing in front of him, wearing flannel pajamas, carrying her service weapon, and peering sleepily at him. She was there, right in front of him. She was rumpled. She was half asleep. And she was adorable.

"Castle? S'everything okay?" The gun was held loosely in her hand now, but her eyes blinked slowly in the hallway light. Castle realized that the apartment behind her was dark, save for the glow of a single light near the rear.

"I woke you?" It was a rhetorical question, but it seemed to be the best he could come up with. He had not thought this through. Beckett shrugged sleepily, nodding and gesturing acquiescence.

"Mmm," she mumbled in agreement. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," Castle said. "These are for you."

Inelegantly, he thrust the flowers and the large plate in her direction, offering a sheepish smile when she frowned at him, the sleep clearing from her eyes as understanding began to dawn.

"You brought me flowers. And... leftovers?" Beckett leaned one shoulder against the doorframe and rubbed a hand over her face. "I don't even... what time is it?"

"It's late, I know," Castle was quick to agree. "I just wanted you to have them. Just, I don't know. If you wanted to bring this stuff to work it'd make a great lunch."

Not enough. It wasn't enough of an explanation, but how could he explain that what he wanted wasn't to feed her, but to comfort her? That was probably better left unsaid for now. His words were so lacking, and he could see the suspicion creeping across her features, that he was sure she was going to tell him to go. That she would refuse his gifts and close the door in his face.

But Beckett was nothing if not mysterious. When she reached out to take the flowers from him, she met his gaze briefly as she held the red and orange mix to her nose and inhaled the autumn scent. And then she smiled, and everything was suddenly, unexpectedly, okay. He could read that his gesture was well received in the way she looked up at him from where her nose was buried in the bouquet, and the slightly crinkled corners of her eyes.

Her voice was soft when she spoke, gentler than she usually allowed him to hear. "Do you... do you want to come in?"

Castle started to decline, but she read him too easily. Wordlessly, and with a knowing tilt of her head, Beckett took the plate of food from his hands and retreated into her apartment. She left the door open in silent invitation and Castle found himself immobile in the doorway. He leaned to one side so he could watch her walk away, but his mind was completely blank and his legs refused to move him inside. For all of his hesitation before he had knocked on her door, he never considered what might happen if she let him in.

"Castle?"

The very last thing he wanted was to be the cause of the uncertainty he could hear in her voice, so he cast his doubts aside in a heap. He brushed his hair back, straightened his shoulders, and entered her apartment. "Yeah, sorry. I'm coming," he called as he closed the door softly behind him. He found her straightening the flowers in the vase, arranging them to her satisfaction. Her face was far too serious for the menial task and Castle found himself having to work to keep from reaching out to stroke his fingertips over the furrow in her brow. He was already far beyond their normal boundaries, and he didn't want to risk her shutting down.

So he settled for small talk. Reaching out, he removed the plastic wrap from the leftovers. "This is probably cold. You want me to heat it up for you?"

Her lips quirked up in a small smile, and she raised an eyebrow at him. "I did actually eat supper before I went to bed, Castle." But despite the quiet tease in her tone, he could see the edges of gratefulness in her eyes. She appreciated the gesture.

"Well," he said. "You should at least have desert."

"Castle..."

"It's okay if you aren't too hungry," he interrupted her protest. "I'll help you finish it."

He turned to grab a small plate and two forks from her cabinets, fumbling through a few wrong drawers before he found the silverware. After slipping the piece of pumpkin pie off of the platter, he looked up to find her watching him somewhat warily.

"You don't like pumpkin?"

He could see her deciding not to question him as if it were a physical battle. She shrugged and took a step closer, scooping up a small bite with her fork and nibbling at it.

"It's good," she admitted, resting her hip against the counter so that she was facing him fully. He could feel her watching him closely as he took his own bite. "Did you have a good Thanksgiving?"

Castle nodded, couldn't help the grin that spread across his face. "The usual. Mother was a little crazy, Alexis was wonderful. Dinner was great. Which," he gestured at the food he'd brought her, "you would know if you just tried some."

Beckett merely smiled faintly and took another small bite of pie. After swallowing, she asked, "And you saw the guys at the Old Haunt?"

"Yeah. Everyone says hi. Ryan, Jenny, Esposito."

"Oh," Beckett said, as if he'd finally explained something to her. She nodded to herself. "So Jenny sent you over here."

"What? No!" Castle shook his head. "I'm pretty sure it was my idea to come over here, Beckett." The whole truth... he was _pretty _sure. Almost certain.

"Why?"

Castle froze mid-chew. It was unlike her to question his motives, especially when the question seemed to point so obviously to some part of the unspoken something between them. He swallowed noisily and met her gaze, surprised to find her eyes dark and somber. There earlier hint of teasing had fallen away and left only the remnants of fatigue and sadness he'd seen in her eyes that morning.

Counter to almost every turning point in their relationship thus far, Castle opted for honesty. "I just wanted to be sure you were okay," he said, offering a small apologetic smile.

"I can take care of myself, Castle," she replied. But there was still something in her voice, in her posture, that invited him to stay. Her words were protesting but everything else about her was voicing her thanks.

"I know," he said softly. Impulsively, he reached out and took her free hand, squeezing to keep a hold when her eyes widened in surprise. She stared up at him, closer than he'd been aware of until this moment. She looked overwhelmed, so he released his hold and took a half step back, pleased that she didn't move away herself. "I just wanted to make sure you weren't unhappy. Because the holidays make me happy, and I thought I could bring you some of that."

"Well," Beckett said thoughtfully, "you did bring me pie. And that's the desert version of happiness."

Castle grinned at that. "Yes, it is." He watched her swallow, his eyes tracing over the bob of her throat and the movement of her jaw, and tamped down on the urge to kiss her. Still not the time for that. Beckett still seemed guarded; distant even though she was an arm's length away. Castle twisted his lips to the side in a small grimace, fighting against the urge to ask what he wanted to know. _Why are you so sad_? Because it would be unkind to ask when he already knew the answer, at least the broad strokes. So he skipped that part, and asked a different question.

"Can I do anything to help you?"

Beckett ducked her head abruptly, looking down at her feet and sighing softly. One slippered foot brushed restlessly at the floor. Then she took a step toward him and then _she _was taking _his _hand, her fingers lacing briefly with his, their palms kissing, her thumb curling around his first finger. "You're already doing it, Castle. You're here."

Castle had time to revel in the warmth of their hands pressed together, to feel a rush of pleasure at her words, and then she was releasing his hand and stepping back. She met his gaze and held it, smiling slightly. "It's getting pretty late, Castle."

And he knew that she was right. It was time to go, to let this unique little evening end. But he wasn't going to forget the way she'd looked at him on this night, or how he could feel that his presence was making something a little easier for her. So he nodded and smiled, his gaze tripping over her face in the low light.

"Good night, Beckett. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Night Castle."

He was already to the door when he heard her footsteps closing in behind him. When he turned she was suddenly wrapped around him, her head tucked below his chin and her arms twisting together behind his back and hugging him fiercely. He returned the gesture, his palms pressing lightly against her shoulder blades in surprise. Then she was pulling away again and offering up a shy, conflicted smile.

"Thank you, Castle. For everything."

"Anytime, Beckett." He wanted to say more, but was loathe to ruin the moment by saying too much, so he simply brushed the backs of his fingers along her forearm to feel the warmth of her skin once more, and then he turned and left, closing the door firmly behind him.

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Thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

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When Beckett woke on Monday it was December 1st, and even what little she could see in her bedroom in the predawn half-light seemed to mock her. She stared across the room at nothing in particular, her gaze shifting from one muted object to the next. Her eyes were wide but dull, only reluctantly reflecting the small hints of city light that dared to enter the room. The dark shapes of her bedroom furniture loomed nefariously in the low light, and she was reminded of the times in her childhood when she had thought they might be monsters or intruders. When any subtle flutter of a curtain was sure to be evidence of the stale breath of some wicked beast.

She had been independent and stubborn even then, but on those few nights some twenty years ago when her imagination had gotten the better of her, she would creep into her parents' bedroom looking for solace. In half-light much like the one she was staring into now, young Beckett would carefully open their bedroom door and inch across the carpet until she came to stand in front of her mother's side of their bed. And no matter how quiet Beckett tried to be, her mother was always awake, warm eyes smiling at her in the darkness and absorbing most of her fear in moments.

Her mom would whisper comfort in the darkness, and Beckett never really felt the need to tell her about the monsters (she was old enough to know they weren't real, anyway), but she loved the way her mother's fingers would tuck her unruly hair behind her ears. The gesture was so simple, so loving and motherly, and long before she learned just how much she needed her mom, Beckett would rest her head on the soft comforter and soak up the familiar feeling of safety. She'd let her mom comfort her for a brief time, and then with more whispered discussion, explain how she knew she was just being silly. She'd say goodnight and tiptoe back to her own room, where the shadows had receded to their two-dimensional shapes, and everything was safe and right again.

But now, Beckett knew better. Because sometimes she could pretend that everything was right and safe and that there was real potential in the world, but when the calendar flipped over to December she was always reminded how much of a lie that was. There may not be monsters hiding behind the curtains, but there were monsters out on the street ready to strip what life you let stray too far from you right out of your hands. And now, with the acidic feeling of tears gathering behind her eyes and constricting her throat, there was no mother down the hall to comfort her.

There was no mother in this city. No mother at all.

With an uncensored sob, Beckett turned her head into her pillow and cried. She writhed with the force of her sorrow and clenched white-knuckled fists in her pillowcase until she could hear her fingernails scratching at the fabric. She cried until her forehead was damp with sweat and her muscles were aching from the tension in her body. She cried until there weren't any tears left to cry, and in the darkness her mouth gaped on silent sobs until even those were reduced to gasping breaths in the cobalt shadows. When her breathing quieted down, it was still December, and the season of grief seemed to stretch in front of her interminably.

It was early. Too early to think about getting up, the darkness of the room telling Beckett everything she needed to know about the time without her having to actually roll over to look at her bedside clock. So she lay still and listened to the first stirrings of the city. First it was a few car doors slamming, some muted voices in her hall. Dawn stretched slowly across her bedroom, yawning through the grey light while she lay unmoving, exposing her raw eyes to growing light and illuminating the way she was shivering beneath just a sheet despite the comforter that was within an arms reach. Her limbs felt so heavy, she couldn't be bothered to reach for it, and simply stared it down indifferently, with the full orchestra of the city now playing outside her window.

It had been light for a while now, even the cold fingers of dawn had given way to regular daylight. Her head felt stuffy from the tears and heavy with the weight of the knowledge of how the next several weeks would play out. She could barely face the day, so she let her eyes fall closed until her phone vibrated where it was resting next to her head on her pillow. With a groan, she dragged one hand to the pillow to hold the phone so she could read the message, her fingers fumbling numbly with the device. It was Esposito.

_Yo, B, you on your way?_

Beckett swiped the text closed to see the clock and blinked in silent surprise. It was already nine o'clock. But despite the fact that she was very late for work, she still could barely muster the energy to get up. That usual adrenaline rush of "_Oh no, I'm late_!" was nowhere to be found. So she had to work to get up without it, rolling to the side of the bed and slowly swinging her legs over until her toes brushed the cool floor. Her head rested a moment more in the softness of the pillows before she lifted the heavy thing and sat up.

Finally, belatedly, she rose from bed. She sent a quick text to Esposito to let him know she was running late, and wandered unhurriedly into her kitchen. Her arms and hands were cold, but she forgot to slip on the sweatshirt hanging on her bedroom door for just this kind of morning. Despite the chill seeping in from all sides, she opened her fridge and managed a small smile at the meager remains of Castle's care package for her.

The smile was dry and heavy with the thickness of her earlier crying jag, but oddly sincere nonetheless, and it seemed to cut through some of the fog that had settled around her mind. She pulled the platter out of the fridge and uncovered it, plucking a small piece of turkey from the plate to nibble on. She wasn't hungry, but she wanted some of Castle's turkey. Not because it was so delicious (it was) but because it reminded her how much he cared. Biting her lip, she stared at the platter for too long, thinking far too hard for this particular morning, before covering up the tiny amounts that were left and putting them back in the fridge. It was time to get rid of the rest, but she couldn't bring herself to do so. Not yet.

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When she arrived at the precinct, she apologized to the boys with a sheepish expression and shrugging shoulders, averting her eyes so they might not notice the redness or the dark circles. They didn't question her tardiness, which was a sure sign that they understood or at least suspected the reason for it, and that made her insides tighten uncomfortably. So she looked around for a distraction, and realized that something was missing.

"No Castle this morning?"

Ryan shook his head. "Saw him in the break room first thing, but I guess he had to leave. He said he'd be back, though."

"He say when?"

The boys shook their heads in unison and shrugged. Suddenly, both of their eyes widened slightly, looking past Beckett's shoulder. Beckett tilted her head curiously at them before turning to see what they were looking at. She came face to face with Captain Montgomery, standing with his arms crossed behind her and looking darkly annoyed.

"So nice of you to join us, Detective Beckett."

She swallowed. "Uh, yes, Sir, I-"

"My office."

With matching sympathetic looks from her team, Beckett followed behind her captain as he stalked through the bullpen. Once in his office she stood stiffly in front of his desk as he sat and leaned back in his chair to regard her silently. She had enough time to register that his office felt colder than normal, and to feel a unique kind of weariness at having to stand there while she felt so run down, and then he spoke.

"Oversleep, Detective?" Montgomery's voice was low but surprisingly lacking in venom.

"No, Sir, I..." What? Was awake for hours and forgot to come in? She changed direction. "Yes. I'm sorry Captain. Won't happen again."

"Don't let it." Montgomery's face softened abruptly, his features melting into affectionate concern with a speed that was almost alarming. "I know the season is difficult for you, Kate. Is there anything you need to talk about?"

Beckett's eyebrows climbed upward and she took a defensive step back, as if she could avoid the conversation and his glare by simply moved away from him. "How did you know?" She asked without thinking, revealing more than she had intended. Her fingers curled nervously into her palms.

"I've known you for a few years, Detective. I've been paying attention." So much with those words, Beckett thought. He noticed more than he ever let on, and she felt a strong surge of affection rising in her chest for the Captain behind the oak desk, and the way he watched over his team.

"I just..." How much to tell him? He was a mentor, to be sure, but also her commanding officer. So she hedged, telling the truth obliquely. "I just feel tired, sir. Really, really tired."

Montgomery eyed her closely for a moment, elbows resting on his desk. Beckett was just beginning to fidget under the scrutiny when he sat back and nodded, seemingly satisfied. Whatever he was looking for, he seemed to have found it. "Alright, then. Get to work, Beckett."

But right before she opened the door he added, "Don't be afraid to lean on your friends, Kate. You're lucky to have them."

She turned and met his gaze, nodding slightly in acknowledgement, and left the office before she could embarrass herself. Castle was still absent when she exited the office, so she headed toward the break room to wipe out her mug and try to make something worth drinking.

"Don't do that!" Castle's voice interrupted her where she was staring at the less than appetizing coffee in her mug, and she looked up to find him striding into the room with, happily, two giant cups of coffee.

"Hey Castle," she said softly. She wanted to smile at him, but her face seemed disconnected from that desire, so she settled for meeting his gaze with what she hoped were warm eyes. She glanced at the coffee. "One of those for me?"

"Yes, of course, here..." he handed her a cup, which she took gratefully, wrapping her hands tightly around the warm cardboard and reveling in the almost-too-hot sensation. Even as her fingers were warming she noticed that he seemed to have brought in a gust of cold city air with him, and stepped away with a grimace.

Of course he noticed. The shadow of hurt in his eyes had her shaking her head to stop whatever he was thinking. "You just seem to have brought winter inside with you."

"Ah." He nodded slightly, his eyes trailing over her tired face and reading the fatigue written there. What the others may have missed, she knew he would notice. Beckett ducked her head self consciously, pressing her nose to the top of her cup to help warm that appendage, also.

"You cold?" he asked.

Beckett nodded wordlessly, holding tightly to her cup. She started to lift the drink to her lips, but he stopped her.

"Wait, it's not your usual."

Beckett raised one eyebrow in question, looking suspiciously at her drink. "Why...? What is it?"

"White peppermint mocha," he answered, grinning a little when her face twisted in disbelief. "Try it, it's a limited time flavor."

"Is it limited by the number of people who don't like it?" she asked snarkily.

At his exasperated look, she shrugged and took a tentative sip, bracing for the worst. But it tasted... good. Surprisingly good. She was still savoring the flavor and the long awaited warmth in her fingers and her belly, when she realized he was still watching her, laughing silently.

"Shut up, Castle."

"Oh, not saying a word, Beckett." But Castle was grinning at her, all wind-burned cheeks and sparkling eyes, so pleased with himself. And if she was being honest, she knew he was pleased with her too. For trying, and for letting him have his fun. So finally, for the first time that day, she managed a little grin before tucking the coffee even closer to her chest, huddling into the warmth a little more. It wasn't enough, but it was a start. It helped.

Beckett found herself wondering how long this even minor lightening of her mood could possibly last, not looking forward to the time when it was bound to wear off, and realized too late that Castle was still watching her. Some of the mirth had left his face, so she hopped up from where she was sitting to get them both to work, to distract them both from the dark waters her mind had been skirting.

.

...

.

By the time she was stepping off of the elevator onto her floor, Beckett was so exhausted she wasn't sure if the numbness in her hands was the chill that had crept back into her bones since her last cup of white peppermint mocha or just fatigue shutting her down, starting with her extremities. With unashamedly half-closed eyes, she shuffled down the hall to her door and had her key in the lock before she noticed the package sitting beside her feet.

It was the size of a shirt box, brightly wrapped in Christmas paper, shinny greens and golds with red ribbon wrapped around and tied carefully into a bow. She bit her lip to stop it from trembling, but couldn't stop a flush of overwhelming emotion from breaking out over her cheeks. There was no question who it was from. Castle had left abruptly in the middle of the afternoon, claiming he had to do "Christmassy things, Beckett." So now, a flick of the flap of paper on top of the gift confirmed, he had left her a present on her doorstep, that silly, silly man. Damn him.

Beckett was utterly exhausted and the silly pleasure in her chest was threatening to send her into her second fit of tears for the day. So she picked the gift up, carefully preserving the ribbons and the wrapping, and headed inside. She deposited the gift on her counter, eyeing it as she unwrapped her scarf and shrugged out of her jacket. Once again, she was freezing, so she took a minute to kick the thermostat up a few degrees. Finally, she cautiously approached the gift.

The little sticker on the outside simply said "For KB, from RC." Nothing more. Curiously, she fished her phone out of her pocket, but she hadn't missed any calls. She wondered if he was anxiously waiting for her to text him now, and found the idea strangely intimate-Castle, sitting somewhere thinking about her while she was thinking about him.

She sighed, and fingered the edges of the wrapping. She couldn't remember the last time she'd opened a gift like this. After her mother died Beckett had been quick to shut down the idea of exchanging presents with friends and significant others. But there had been a few along the way, a handful in ten years, and she wondered now how long it had been. She certainly didn't think anything had made her feel so _cared for _as this surprising, unopened gift.

She breathed in deeply, shaking on the exhale. With slightly trembling fingers, she tore open the paper and lifted off the top of the box. Inside was a handwritten note, and she coasted her fingertips over his elegant, familiar script.

_Beckett-_

_You didn't say, but I know today hit you hard. I know I can't fix what's wrong, but I can help you fix one thing._

_For me, December is about warmth... both the feeling in my heart when I see what my daughter has become and when my family is all together for the holidays and the physical warmth we feel in our home, in front of the fire, snuggled together for a movie._

_You looked cold today, so I hope I can share some of that with you. _

_-Castle_

She peeled back the tissue paper and grinned confusedly. She was met with fleece adorned with the New York Yankees logo. What...? Pulling the fabric out of the box, she was met with a somewhat amorphous chunk of fabric. Turning it and holding it out wide, she suddenly realized what it was. And she burst out laughing.

He got her a snuggie. A Yankees snuggie.

The laughter, the surprise, her exhaustion, and her precarious mental state on this day led quickly to more tears. Crying in earnest, she slid to the floor of her kitchen, hiccupping and gasping for air, her fingers digging in to the soft material of her present. Her silly, heartfelt, earnest, useful, ridiculous present. She uselessly tried to blink away her tears and reached for her phone.

She palmed it briefly, unsure, but her captain's words from earlier that day came back to her as if he were saying them right now. "Lean on your friends, Beckett." She shook her head, _how did he know? _and dialed now without hesitation, her breath still unsteady with emotion. The phone barely rang once before he was answering.

"Hey, Beckett." His voice was as warm as the fleece draped around her.

"Castle, this," she gestured at the navy fleece before remembering he couldn't see her. But she pressed her lips together, suddenly sure that if she tried to speak he would only hear her begin crying again.

"Kate?"

"Cas-" She broke off when her lip trembled and tried again. "Castle, I'm-"

She couldn't speak. Her throat was too full of emotion to try, so she just gripped the phone tightly to her ear and tried to get her breathing under control.

"Kate, are you ok?"

"I don't know," she managed. "This gift..."

"If you don't like it, you don't have-"

"I love it," she interrupted.

"I'm glad."

Silence followed while she was gathering her thoughts, and her courage.

"Castle," she swiped at her cheeks and breathed deeply, warring internally before giving in. "Can you come over?"

.

.

.

**A/N: **Thanks for reading! I'd love to know what you thought. :)


	4. Chapter 4

"Castle," she swiped at her cheeks and breathed deeply, warring internally before giving in. "Can you come over?"

There was silence on the line. Beckett clutched at her new snuggie and sucked in another unsteady breath, working hard to keep him from hearing the stutter, and pressed her ear to her phone. Nothing but silence from the other end, and had she... could she possibly have misinterpreted this? She had worked so long at keeping him at a distance, had he changed his mind when she wasn't looking? Was all of this-the gifts, the hand holding, the way he seemed to be taking care of her-was all of the meaning in those things only in her imagination?

The blood rushed to her face in a hot, sudden flood of shame and embarrassment, pulsing uncomfortably in her cheeks. "Castle, you don't have to, if you don't..." she grimaced and bent over her lap, hiding her face in the ocean of fleece around her, "if you don't want to. I know it's late."

There was the sound of static on the line, and some shuffling. Then at long last, Castle's voice was in her ear again. "What? No, Beckett, I'm sorry. Of course I'm coming over. I thought I said yes. I meant to say yes, but maybe I got distracted by getting ready to go. I'm almost ready to walk out the door."

Castle switched his phone to speaker mode so he could slip on his coat without missing any of the conversation. Beckett's voice was too low and quiet when she responded, like he'd knocked the wind out of her sails.

"If you're sure." She was murmuring again, and Castle was starting to associate that particular tone of her voice with a kind of doubt and uncertainty he had never been aware of before. So he reassured her again, but then ended the call so he could direct all of his focus into the rush to her apartment. He had to get there, now, because the very fact that she was asking left a nervous weight in his belly. His concern was almost all-consuming; furrowing his brow and tensing his shoulders. So, he hurried.

He only slowed for the last ten or so strides down her hall to collect his breath so she wouldn't know that he had literally run over. Well, he caught a cab, but then he ran up the stairs because no matter how many times he jabbed his finger into the 'up' button, the elevator was interminably slow. He had felt the same way the last time he'd knocked on her door, though that day he'd taken the time to wait for the elevator while he argued with himself about whether he should have been there at all. But unlike Thanksgiving, Castle didn't hesitate at all to knock this time.

When she opened the door, the Yankees snuggie was draped over one arm and there was a self-conscious smile turning up one corner of her mouth. She looked tired but somehow pleased, and Castle felt some of the growing panic melt out through the bottom of his feet, keeping him heavily in place while they both tried to think of something to say.

Beckett gestured to the snuggie with a small gesture, her eyes flitting out over the hallway. "I love this," she admitted, a thanks and a confession.

Castle smiled slowly, but there was still a wrinkle furrowing his brow. Her words seemed sincere but her face was too serious and there were telling bright spots high up on her cheekbones. A red tint to her eyes and nose. Shit.

"But... it upset you?" He wasn't really asking, and she didn't need to answer. He sighed, shifted his weight. "I didn't mean to make you cry." Castle offered a gentle smile that she returned while still avoiding eye contact.

"You didn't, not really. I just felt," she stopped and looked at where her fingers were moving against the soft fabric. "I don't know. You want to come in?"

"Of course."

Castle followed her inside her apartment for the second time in a week, but this time she led him to her couch with the English flag pillow. She sat in one corner, and when he hesitated-_how close should I sit_-she patted the space next to her.

"Come here, Castle. We need to test how warm this thing is."

Castle raised an eyebrow playfully, barely restraining the many, many comebacks that flew to mind. But Beckett gave him a look like she knew exactly what he was thinking, so he stepped over and dropped heavily to the sofa, bouncing once, just to make her roll her eyes at him. And she did, before softening and draping the fleece over their laps. She shifted to face him, one leg folded up on the couch, her knee pressed against his hip and her shin following the line of his thigh.

Castle glanced down at their legs to see the contact, but of course he couldn't because all of the evidence of their closeness was covered by the snuggie. When he looked back at her, Beckett was leaning her head heavily on one hand, elbow propped against the back of the couch, watching him. Her smile held hints of amusement that had been missing for most of the day, for weeks really, but there was also an air about her like she had something to say, and Castle felt himself relaxing deeper into the cushions to wait her out.

Beckett was tracing the softness of the Yankees logo with her free hand while she thought, her eyes unfocused, her breathing slow and deep and distracted.

"Your gift didn't upset me, Castle," she finally began. "It's perfect."

"It's nothing," he shook his head modestly.

"It is not nothing," she argued, and suddenly her eyes were meeting his with an abrupt fierceness. "It's something... special. It's more than just... It's more."

"More?" The word slipped out while he was mulling it, but he held up a hand to stop her from continuing. "Sorry. I understand. And I'm glad that you do, too. I meant it as more."

The fierceness dropped away from Beckett's face with the arrival of a novel kind of warmth-the kind that you don't need a special blanket for. But the affection only flitted over her face, remaining long enough to be fully acknowledged, before her mouth pulled back in a kind of grimace and she was looking down again. Castle could see in the tension of her brow line that she was suddenly fighting back tears, and trying not to let on.

His control slipped just enough that he was reaching out to cup her cheek before he even knew what he was doing. When she didn't pull away from his touch, he let his thumb stroke over her cheek. No tears, but he could feel the effort to prevent them trembling through her skin. He sighed and leaned a little closer.

"Tell me again I didn't make you cry?" He was barely whispering, not wanting to accidentally damage whatever small strength was holding her together. What he wanted, more than anything, was for her to let him hold her. She had called him, she was trying to let him in, that much was clear. But it wasn't enough. He could do so much more if she'd let him.

Beckett was shaking her head, wordless, pressing against the palm at her cheek. And then, as if she'd heard him, she gave in completely. With a gasping exhale she fell forward to rest her forehead on his shoulder, his hand still cradling her face. Surprised but not about to let the opportunity go unanswered, Castle shifted her with gentle hands and a murmur of, "Here, just slide over like this..." and then he really was holding her. Her face was resting at his collarbone and her body was aligned closely with his, closer still due to the arm he had wrapped around her shoulders.

"It really wasn't the snuggie," she spoke with a watery laugh, her nose turning deeper into his chest. Castle smiled at the movement and squeezed her shoulder encouragingly.

"I was so stressed today," she continued, "and working so hard to keep everything in check, that even though this made me smile and laugh it also made me unable to keep everything else in." She sighed and looked away again, turning to stare over her own shoulder without moving away, so he could only see the curls of her hair and the outline of one ear.

Cautiously, Castle reached out and stroked the fingers of one hand through the hair at her temple, his pinkie brushing over the crest of her ear. Beckett jumped in surprise, her shoulders coming up briefly. Then, to Castle's infinite relief, she relaxed. Her shoulders dropped and she turned halfways back to him, eyes still averted, but leaning into his touch, pressing her shoulder closer to his. He could just see her lashes drifting down toward the curve of her cheek, so he repeated the motion. She sighed.

"Kate." He didn't remember lowering his head to hers, but he must have because he was whispering the question into her hair. "Tell me why you don't like Christmas."

He was prepared for her to tense, so when she did it didn't feel like defeat.

"Tell me why you love it." A diversion, softly spoken and hardly concealed, but an honest question nonetheless. And how could he deny her the answer when she was murmuring the question into his collarbone? So Castle did what Castle does best, and wove her the story.

"When I was a kid, it was always just me and my mother. Sometimes we had some money, and sometimes almost none at all. She was always so busy with the theater that there were months on end when I barely saw her. But no matter what was happening, she always made Christmas special.

"There was this one time," he grinned a little at the nostalgia thrumming in his chest, an ache and a pleasure, "where we were broke and she was between plays. So instead of buying presents she offered to bake me anything I wanted. We went to the little discount grocery store, Save-a-buck or whatever, and I bought ingredients for five different kinds of cake and a pie, using my own money. We spent all day Christmas eve making every one of them, and all day on Christmas eating them and watching movies.

"Of course, Mother was never a very good baker, but the frosting was right out of the can, so the overall effect wasn't awful."

Beckett snorted a little and Castle could feel her cheeks lifting in a grin. Still cautious, wary that she would remember that they don't do this, he pulled his fingers through her hair again. This time she actually made a tiny noise of pleasure, a hum he could barely hear, so he left his hand at her temple and continued to play with the curls there.

"I was so sick the next day," he remembered ruefully. "But it was worth it because she showed me how even though we didn't have much we could still make Christmas whatever we wanted. We could still be just as much of a family as anyone else. And when Alexis came along I thought it was so important to do the same thing for her. So even when she was only three I decorated the apartment I was living in until it looked like a reindeer had thrown up in there. Two trees, garland, lights, blow-up Santa, some of those Clementine oranges. Anything and everything I could think of."

Beckett hummed, smiling a little at the image of a younger Castle making Christmas for a toddling Alexis.

"It was the first thing I liked about you, you know." Her eyes popped open (_when had she closed them_) when she realized she'd spoken the words aloud.

Castle's mouth opened in pleased surprise. "What, that I love the holidays?"

"No. How you are as a father. How amazing Alexis turned out, and how much of that is because of you. It was the first time I saw you as the man, and not as the image."

Castle turned wide eyes down toward her, attempting to catch her gaze, but only ended up pressing his nose into her hair again. But really, he wasn't complaining. Even his most optimistic expectations rarely envisioned them snuggled together on the couch, and the thought warmed him as much as the woman leaning into him. So he wrapped his arm around her a little tighter. _The first time I saw you as a man_.

"Alexis prevented me from becoming the image I was projecting permanently," he reflected. "She made me grow up. I knew it was my job to make her life great, especially considering how absent Meredith was. Is," he corrected with a long-felt sorrow. "I always wanted her to know that no matter what else was going on, there was always the possibility for this joy in every day."

"What?" Beckett was pulling away, pushing off of his chest to sit up and away from him before he'd even registered the question.

"What did you say?" she asked again, looking at him with a strange look of sudden fury.

"It was important, for Alexis-"

"No." Her stony expression revealed nothing, her posture too rigid juxtaposed with the softness of the evening and the piles of fleece still draped around her. "_'The possibility for joy'_? Where did that come from?"

Castle opened his mouth and shrugged, helplessly lost. "I don't understand."

"Have you been talking to my dad?" She was standing now, glaring down at him.

"What? No!" Castle stood too, but didn't dare move any closer to her. Whatever nerve he had inadvertently struck was apparently, dangerously exposed, and he risked hurting her more until he could figure out the problem.

"Where else would you have heard that?" She was glaring at him, eyes dark, arms crossed.

"I made it up," he answered, hands held out to his sides. "That's what I do. That's how I always thought of it. It was my job to show her the possibility in the world, so she wouldn't get bogged down in the reality of it. And Christmas is full of joy, you know? Well, for me."

He ended with too little breath, and had to breath deeply to regain his bearings and his center. He stood still but for the curious tilt of his head until her posture deflated and she sank back down to the cushions. She rested her elbows on her knees and put her face in her hands, looking entirely defeated.

"Oh, Castle, I'm sorry. Sit back down."

He did, gingerly, as if she might rage at him again any moment. "Was it something I said? 'Possibility of something'?"

"Yes. It's just something my dad said to me, right after Mom died." Castle stilled with the weight of her words, listening carefully. "Just, he was trying to do exactly what you were just saying you did for Alexis. Show her the good in the world and protect her from the bad. But by that point, we were both already entrenched in the worst the world has to offer."

Castle was nodding, carefully, only mostly sure he understood. "I'm sorry. For what I said, for what you went through then, for what you're going through now."

But Beckett was smiling a little and taking his hand and shaking her head. "None of those are for you to apologize for," she said, tracing the shapes of his fingers. "And you being here, being my friend, being _more_," here she glanced shyly up to meet his eyes before scooting a little closer to him, "has made it easier. Today was awful, but you made it okay."

Beckett shrugged then, afraid to say more. This tentative thing between them was so new, even if they'd been skirting it for years, that she wasn't sure how much to say. Or rather, what she could say that wouldn't seem like not enough, or too much.

But then, just as careful as her, Castle was scooting closer, wrapping his arms around her and blanketing the snuggie around them to ward off the chill of the apartment. The way his arms felt around her, the way the calmly steady rise and fall of his chest felt below her cheek, the fact that he didn't feel the need to fill the space with words like he so often does, all of those things told her that they were okay.

"I want to show you," he said softly, one hand smoothing down the curve of her waist. "How much the season means to me. It can mean that to you, too."

Beckett sighed, and shook her head. "I don't think so, Castle."

"Just wait. I might surprise you."

.

...

.

**A/N: **I'm so behind on this story. I worked 90 hours in 7 days (three doubles!) and had two finals last week and then I came up for air and Christmas is next week! But, I do still plan to have it finished on time... which means potentially multiple chapter updates in one day, LOL. I'd love to know what you think.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: **Thanks for all the lovely responses to this. :) You guys make my day.

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...

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"So wait. You're telling me that after all that you didn't even kiss her?"

Castle looked up from his omelet to give his daughter what he hoped was an authorial glare.

"Not that it's any of your business, daughter-"

Alexis interrupted him with a disbelieving laugh. "_You _followed _me _to the kitchen because you needed to get this off your chest, Dad."

"But of course I didn't kiss her," he ignored her completely. "She was upset and vulnerable and-"

"No, she wasn't." Alexis was scoffing at him, the little imp. Feeling betrayed, he smacked her hand away when she tried to snag a green pepper off of his plate.

"Get your own. And didn't anyone teach you to respect your elders and not to interrupt them?"

"My elders taught me to feed my curiosity."

Castle wondered if it was normal to feel both pride and resentment toward your child at the same time. Probably. He shoveled another bite into his mouth because he couldn't think of a comeback quickly enough, and it was better to appear rude than slow-witted. However, Alexis used this moment of weakness as an opportunity against him.

She counted off on her fingers. "One: you bought her a gift. And it's not even Christmas yet. Two: she invited you over late at night. Three: you cuddled on the couch. Four: you shared an intimate memory..."

"'Intimate' might be a bit strong for any story including my Mother," Castle interjected.

"...and five, she fell asleep on your shoulder..."

"She was exhausted because she'd had a terrible day!" He was not getting defensive about this. Getting defensive would mean admitting she had a point. So. Definitely not getting defensive. No.

"And she called you, Dad." Alexis's face softened slightly, but it left Castle suspicious. His daughter was rarely soft without a reason. "She called you. Not Doctor Parish, or Detective Ryan or Esposito, or her captain, or her dad, all of whom she's known longer than she's known you. Why is that, Dad?"

Castle's jaw dropped slightly at the image his daughter was presenting. A tiny piece of omelet escaped and fell onto his shirt, but Alexis didn't wrinkle her nose like she normally would. She remained confident, smart, and too damn nosey for her own good. And that one-eyebrow lift? She'd gotten that from Beckett. Actually, her whole posture seemed vaguely familiar.

Castle straightened abruptly. "Are you using interrogation techniques on me?" He was wondering if her could convince her he was outraged, but had a feeling Alexis would know he was also proud.

"Depends." Alexis finally succeeded in pilfering a pepper from his plate, and popped it into her mouth. After she swallowed, she grinned evilly. "Are you guilty of something?"

Castle glowered at her and chose to take another bite instead of answering. His damned daughter-ok, his brilliant, talented, precocious, insightful daughter, but whatever-was making him second guess himself.

Should he have kissed her?

.

...

.

Beckett wrapped her fingers around her ankles where they were tucked underneath her so she could keep them from fidgeting. Because Lanie had an uncanny knack for reading her nervous tells, and this conversation was already getting away from her. No need to feed the fire that is Lanie's wizard-like skill. Beckett was sitting cross-legged on a metal cart in the morgue, and Lanie was positively grilling her for information.

"Seriously?" The shorter woman was demanding an answer, not asking. "Tell me one more time that that man didn't kiss you. One more time because sometimes I can't tell if the crazy is all of the formaldehyde getting to my brain or if the crazy is really the things you're saying."

"Lanie," Beckett protested, though she could hear the unwelcome whine in her voice.

"I mean it." Lanie pulled off her blue nitrile gloves with an audible snap and tossed them into the garbage before turning to square off with her friend. "Tell me again."

"We fell asleep," Beckett said, not for the first time. It was getting harder to keep her exasperation in check. "He woke me up. I thanked him, he left. That's the story. It's not like it gets salacious if I tell it to you a magical number of times."

"Would it be so bad if it did?"

"I... well, no. But that's not what happened." Beckett lowered her gaze and picked at a fleck of dirt on her boots. It ended up under her fingernail, so she started picking at those, too.

"Oh, honey." Lanie's fierce facade dropped away, replaced by only a sickeningly sweet kind of sympathy. "I'm so sorry." To Beckett's surprise and mild horror, Lanie pulled her down from her perch, the metal cart rattling away, and hugged her tightly. Awkwardly, Beckett returned the hug.

"Uh, Lanie? Why are you 'oh, honey'-ing me?"

"Kate Beckett, do not stand there and act like you don't care if Castle kisses you or not! Like you don't care that he didn't when he might have. Because that is what you're trying to tell me, right?" Lanie's eyebrows were up, her hands on her hips. She was positively daring Beckett to challenge her assessment.

Beckett pinched the bridge of her nose. A headache and the melancholy were beginning to seep in through her sinuses. "Well, okay," she conceded. "Of course I care-"

Lanie squealed and clapped her hands together excitedly, bouncing forward for another quick hug.

"Lanie! Will you stop that? I mean, yeah, if given the choice, I would choose that he had... or that maybe I would have..." her voice trailed off and she gesticulated shapelessly toward herself with a floppy wrist.

She sighed. "But it wasn't like that."

"Well fine. Okay. What was it like?" Lanie was softer now, cajoling, working her. Beckett didn't like it, but it wasn't to be resisted either.

"It was... awkward."

.

...

.

"It was so awkward, guys." Castle hunched his shoulders against the incredulous stares of Ryan and Esposito. Luckily the general bustle of the Old Haunt, even on a weekday afternoon, helped to camouflage some of his discomfort.

"Awkward?"

"Awkward how?"

"I'm not usually at her apartment. We aren't usually alone in an intimate setting like that." Ryan snorted. Espo just shook his head. "And we were both groggy from waking up-"

"Yeah, waking up together on a couch," Ryan interrupted, smirking.

Castle took a moment to glare at him before returning to his face-forward stance at the bar. "It was just awkward. Terribly awkward." Castle took a swig from his bourbon, made a face at his distorted reflection in the honey-colored liquid.

"Dude." When Ryan didn't continue, Castle turned to face his disbelieving expression.

"Yeah, dude," Esposito reiterated. "I mean, bro. Bro, really."

"Really what?" Castle spat out, agitated and growing more annoyed by the minute. He invited them here looking for camaraderie, not looking for them to team up against him and make him feel like an idiot.

"Well," Esposito took a moment to sip his beer. If he thought he was pausing dramatically, he was wrong. Castle gritted his teeth to stay quiet. Espo wiped at his mouth and continued, "The awkward part is that you didn't kiss her."

Ryan nodded in agreement. "Yeah dude." The boys clinked their beer bottles together, drank, and turned as one to nod sagely at him.

"No." Could it be that simple? "No." Castle shook his head aggressively. This was impossible.

"Yes." The boys were in unison now. Always a dangerous thing.

"No," Castle retorted vehemently. This was not his first rodeo. Beckett wasn't the first woman he'd tried to seduce. She wasn't the first woman he'd been in love... woah. His shoulders dropped. She was different from all of the other women.

"I... I should have kissed her?" He sounded pathetic even over the din of the crowd, but he was past caring. He dipped a finger into his drink just to watch the ripples move. "So, should I call her or give it some time?"

"I think give it some time," Esposito offered.

"Yeah," Ryan agreed, still smirking. "So much time that they invent a time machine and you can go back in time to do the thing you should have done in the first place."

Castle glared at the Irishman, and Esposito turned slowly to stare disgustedly at him, but Ryan was too busy cackling at his own joke to notice. Then even Esposito was laughing. Soon the boys were practically in hysterics at Castle's expense. He grimaced glumly at his drink, swirling it on the bar top. He looked at Ben, the bartender, and tilted his head toward the two chortling detectives.

"They think I should have kissed her."

"Who, that super foxy brunette you show off in here sometimes? She's hot."

Like a switch had been flipped the laughter stopped and the two detectives sat up straight and stared the guy down.

"Hey. You do not talk about Beckett that way."

"Yeah, have some respect."

The bartender raised his hands in mock surrender, smirking at them dismissively. "Okay, fine. Never again. But is that the girl?"

Castle lifted one shoulder. "Yeah, that's her."

"Oh, man," Ben laughed. "Whatever you guys are talking about, you definitely should have kissed her."

Castle narrowed his eyes. "I'm going to fire you next the chance I get."

.

...

.

"Kate, stop," Lanie admonished, hoping to stop the Beckett-shaped storm of hysteria before it got even more out of hand.

"And," Beckett continued, pacing and gesturing broadly with her hands, "he got me the most perfect gift-"

"So you said." Lanie crossed her arms and barely suppressed an eye roll. Really, was Rick Castle worth all of this anxiety? That man is no Esposito. She shrugged to herself and refocused on Beckett. She was still talking at no one.

"And he's trying to make Christmas okay, which is so, I don't know. Sweet, but just Castle, you know? How could it be so perfect and then so very painfully awkward? How, Lanie? How?"

Lanie stepped slightly into Beckett's path so that the other woman would stop pacing, and forced her to make eye contact. "That boy is head over heels in love with you, so if it isn't easy for him to take the leap you have to cut him some slack."

Beckett's eyes widened almost comically, but Lanie had stopped being in the mood for those kinds of games sometime about half an hour ago.

"Do not even start with me, Beckett. You know he is. And we both know that all you want for Christmas is him. Do not make me do my Mariah Carey impression just to make my point."

There was a beat of silence. And then, "Actually, Lanie, I'd kinda like to see that." Some of the tension left Beckett's body when she grinned at the thought, and she met Lanie's gaze with sparkling eyes. "Really."

"Maybe at the Christmas party, girl. Eggnog does funny things. Something else for you to look forward to."

"Me, and Esposito?" Beckett grinned. Lanie had been skirting around the topic of the Latino detective for weeks. Beckett wasn't sure if anything had happened yet, but Lanie definitely wanted something to happen. And a Christmas party would be the perfect place-

"Espo... what? No. Obviously, not. Me, whatever, Beckett, Javier, is. Yeah, no." Lanie giggled nervously.

Beckett smiled broadly at her. "Oh, that clears it up, thanks." She sighed, still smiling, and leaned against the counter. Castle wasn't at the precinct today, something about writing. The caseload was pretty light, and now that she thought about it, she hadn't seen Ryan or Esposito for hours. She'd have to call them to check in soon.

And Castle. They'd been incommunicado since Monday night, and that's two days ago now. Beckett sighed again and nibbled on her thumbnail.

"But why do you think he didn't kiss me, Lanie?"

Lanie turned huge, disbelieving eyes back to her friend and made a huge effort not to throw up her hands in exasperation. Oh, this was going to be a long day.

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...

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After saying goodbye to the boys at the bar, Castle shouldered his way through the New York crowds to get home. He could have taken a taxi, but the brisk air felt good after the close air of the Old Haunt. That place had been a great find, a great buy, and the idea that it was his still filled him with a kind of excited energy. But a bar, even a great one, is still a bar. Too much whiskey, combined with too many bodies, and too much warmth, and only grey skies outside and Castle suddenly wasn't quite feeling like himself.

He breathed in deeply to try to clear his head, but when he did he only thought of one thing. No matter how much he tried to ignore it, there was only the ghost of a few nights earlier rattling around in there, asking him why he'd hesitated. So he walked the city streets in the flat light and stopped trying to forget.

He'd woken slowly that night. In that momentary confusion before he knew quite where he was, he was first aware of her scent. So light he rarely even noticed it, he couldn't help but notice with his nose buried in her hair. The waves had brushed over his cheeks when he tried to straighten his neck, slowed by the painful crick he felt there. She was fast asleep against him, one hand curled under her chin and the other splayed out across his chest.

In his younger, more romantic days, Castle might have been tempted to lay them out; carefully, sure not to wake her, so they could snuggle together for the rest of the night and wake together in the morning. But he was getting older, and even the hour or so he'd been asleep had left him sore and uncomfortable. And Beckett's neck was held at a strange angle in her sleep, and Castle could only think of how much it would hurt her in the morning. No, this was no good.

So, tenderly, he'd roused her. First with just a soft chorus of "Beckett, wake up" in her ear and, when that only yielded a murmured word that sounded something like "schmergenstein" mumbled into his chest, with a hand gently shaking her shoulder. Beckett woke slowly, adorably, and Castle had the luxury of watching her discover their proximity just like he had. Unable to resist, he drew his palm over her shoulder and down to the curve of her waist.

Her sleepy eyes had darkened with realization, and turned up to him when she shifted to a more comfortable position. They'd stared at each other, warm and close and so comfortable, but the moment had stretched on just a little longer than it should have, and doubt began to filter in through the warmth. And just as he'd started to say something, anything, maybe, "Sleep well?" or "I should go," he'd felt her fingers flex against him and noticed her eyes flick down to his lips.

He should have kissed her.

Instead, he'd panicked, bumbling awkwardly to stand, helping her sit up away from him with cumbersome hands and jerky apologies. Aware that he was making things worse, his stream of consciousness had come to a screaming halt, so that then he could not think of a single thing to say. They'd stood still across from each other for way too long, Beckett's eyes wide with an unnamed emotion, and Castle with his heart in his throat. He reached for her hand to give it a strange little squeeze, and then he'd made his escape into the bright light of her hallway and then the relative darkness of the city.

Walking now through the fading afternoon light, Castle's cheeks flamed in embarrassment. He was never going to live this down. Assuming he could somehow get past the moment, that Beckett would eventually talk to him again, she'd never let this go.

Tired of walking, and of the city, and of himself, Castle finally turned toward the loft. Once inside, he stopped by the entryway closet to rid himself of his coat. As he unwound his scarf from around his neck, he caught his reflection in the hall mirror. Giving himself a once-over, he frowned. His reflection frowned back, unimpressed.

So Castle asked him, "What do you think?"

There was a pause, and then his reflection nodded knowingly. "You should have kissed her."

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**A/N**: Can someone tell me how everyone gets the section breaks in their stories? My method is so awkward, speaking of. (This seems like a desperate cry for people to 'review' my story, so PMs would be great, haha.) I'd love to know what you think! :)


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: I'm changing the rating on this to T, not because it's any different, but I noticed I keep dropping an occasional four-letter word, which is rude if someone just wants to read a nice clean K+ story. Apologies...

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Another Monday morning dawned with Beckett feeling just as badly as she had on the previous one. Only now, instead of just the usual weight of December despair pressing down on her, she also had to face Castle today. It was so strange, feeling torn about Castle. Beckett rolled restlessly to her back in the predawn darkness, flinging one arm out wide, kicking at her covers in annoyance, chewing viciously on her lip. Because as much as she had missed him while he was away, she was dreading seeing him today.

It'll be the first time since _that _night.

The night that was perfect, right up until it became a manifestation of all of her insecurities. Allowing herself a little smile into her pillow, Beckett remembered those hazy moments right before she'd fallen asleep. Those moments when she knew she was falling asleep on her partner's chest, her consciousness heavy and slipping, and she didn't care because it felt so right. Alone in her bed, Beckett rubbed her cheek against her pillowcase, a poor substitute for the man she was missing, sighed, and rubbed her eyes.

Okay, she didn't feel nearly as bad as she had last week. And it was no use pretending that had anything to do with anything other than the man in question. But this nervous tremor at the bottom of her stomach was also caused by him; his conflicting actions, his general presence. And his absence this past week, time off for writing and then to take Alexis to tour some colleges on a long weekend. They had been in communication while he was gone, but the halting text messages were nothing like their usual banter.

With a sigh, she thumbed her phone awake and checked to be sure she remembered the message correctly.

_Alexis loves Stanford._

_Be back Monday._

It was too early to get up, but that had rarely stopped her before. Instead of one of her usual robes, Beckett tugged the snuggie over her head, just like she had been doing every day for the last week. She really did love it, to an almost embarrassing degree. It was soft and extremely warm and she imagined that it smelled like Castle, though she would admit to herself in the small hours of the morning that she was probably imagining that part.

Beckett padded to her kitchen and regarded her coffee maker with a furrowed brow. Castle would undoubtedly bring coffee when he arrived, but he had never specified if he was planning on spending the whole day at the precinct, and when she had started to text him to ask she had been overcome with self-conscious doubt. Was it too much? Was she allowed to ask? Was it stupid that she was thinking so hard about this? The text had been deleted in a fit of nervous energy.

Conflicted, Beckett made herself a coffee. She could always ditch it if he was there early. But, she glanced at the clock, the chance of him being there before six were pretty slim. Hopefully he'd bring her the pick-me-up she'd need at eight. Perfect. She was going to need it just to get through what was bound to be their awkward interactions.

When she arrived, the precinct was lit by only the cheerless glow of Christmas lights bordering office doors and draped over every free surface. She imagined that the guard could see right through her professional but cheerful facade, and that the uniforms on night duty were judging her where they sat in the break room sipping eggnog and discussing holiday plans. Worrying her hands through her hair, she slipped as quietly as possible to her desk. She sat with a huff, flipped on her desk lamp, and looked at the unusually light workload in front of her. If ever there was a day when coming in early was unnecessary, today was that day.

So she spent two hours catching up on paperwork, and then deleting old files off of her computer, and then archiving information she'd forgotten in her desk drawer. Only by focusing more than she really needed to could she avoid noticing the holly and the ribbons and the lights. If she kept her mind occupied, she could forget that the room smelled of cinnamon and clove. Her hair was pulled back into a bun by eight, and when Castle didn't show up at the usual time her jacket was hung with extraordinary force on the back of her chair and a button lost off the cuff of her blouse when she rolled the sleeves up too irritably. She growled and checked her phone one more time. No messages.

By ten, after she snapped at a passing robbery detective for standing in her light, she knew she needed a break. Not from work, there was barely enough of that to go around. But from the room, from the good cheer, from the people, and from the person who was supposed to be there but wasn't. So she gathered up the information she hadn't been reading, dropped it in her desk drawer, and roughly pulled her winter coat on. She noticed Esposito and Ryan watching her warily and barely contained an annoyed retort at their stares. Shaking with too much emotion, she marched to the elevator where she jabbed the down button repeatedly until the thing gave in and opened up for her.

One glare was all it took to keep another homicide detective (Kreider, maybe? New from vice?) from joining her. So she rode the elevator down alone and strode agitatedly out the front doors. Once outside, she took a right and continued marching, breathing too deeply and too quickly, her distress a physical thing now that was darkening her vision and causing her heart to race. On the edge of her thoughts, she recognized that she was rapidly approaching some kind of true panic attack, but ignored the thought to just keep marching.

She circled the block once, then twice. On the third trip she took herself up an extra street, so that when she finally made it back to the precinct she was out of breath. Glaring at the building, she kicked at a pebble on the sidewalk before collapsing onto a stone bench beside the entryway. Leaning her head back against the structure, Beckett noted that the sky was still grim, that stubborn winter grey that denied the sun without even the promise of snow.

There she sat, letting unknown time drift by while she stared at the sky, until her vision was partially blocked by the bulk of a very familiar person walking up to her. Turning her head without lifting it, she squinted at Castle where he stood watching her warily.

"Hey, Castle."

"Hey."

Castle stood shifting on his feet for a moment, before motioning to her bench. "Make room for me?"

What a loaded question, Beckett thought, before realizing what he really meant and shifting over so he could sit beside her. They sat side by side in the cold for long minutes, neither speaking, exchanging sidelong glances until Beckett sat forward and turned her head to face him fully.

"So, good trip?"

"Mmm," he hummed, still watching the passing cars. "That girl is growing up too quickly. Though it might be time for her to leave, she's starting to know me better than I know myself."

Beckett wondered if he was speaking of a particular incident, but the heaviness of the day somehow prevented her from asking. She wanted to ask why he hadn't been there that morning, but couldn't seem to formulate the question in a way that didn't sound accusatory. So instead she turned to watch the traffic as well, seeing without seeing, thinking about how the funk was settling around her and making it hard to think or move.

"Kate."

Castle's voice was laced with concern, soft and close, he had leaned in while her mind was wandering. There something else she couldn't quite place, too. She turned her head enough to make eye contact.

"What are you doing out here?"

Kate considered the question, chewing on her lip and rubbing her fingertips on her thighs. "I just couldn't be in there anymore," she finally sighed, looking away again.

"Bad case?"

"No. No case at all, really. Downtime."

Castle nodded, regarding her. Even out of the corner of her eye she could see him gathering himself for something, and inwardly she winced. Was this it? Was this where he said he needed someone more fun, less complicated, less burdened? Is that why he hadn't wanted to kiss her? Beckett's throat tightened uncomfortably and she blinked away the foreshadowing of tears.

But then, inexplicably, he was taking one of her hands in his, the joined pair resting on her thigh. When he squeezed gently, she turned confused eyes back up to him.

"I need," he cleared his throat, seemingly uncertain, then visibly fortified himself. "I need to apologize."

Beckett wiggled her fingers in his grasp and shook her head minutely, but didn't interrupt.

"I told you I wanted to help make the season better for you, and I think that maybe I've made it worse." Castle's eyes were a pale blue in the winter light, reflecting the sky until they were almost grey, and they seemed to be boring into her with the seriousness he was projecting. Beckett swallowed, trying to force some moisture down her throat.

"No, Castle, that's not true."

"Wait, let me finish." Castle waited until she nodded agreement, staring at their joined hands in her lap. "The other night, I made a mistake. I don't even know why I acted how I did, I can only say that I panicked a little because I was half asleep and because it's you..."

Beckett gave a shaky laugh, smiling bitterly at nothing. "I don't think this is a good idea, Castle..."

"I told you to let me finish." Surprised at the force behind his words, Beckett nodded again and turned to let their eyes meet. This time, there was something so sure in his gaze that she felt the angry knot in her chest loosening. Here, again, was the man she hoped to be with. Castle continued, "If nothing else, Kate, it's important that you know that I regretted not kissing you as soon as I stepped out into the hall. But this thing between us is so... _unconventional_... that sometimes I don't know how to act."

This time her laugh wasn't bitter but the sound of a kind of shared misery and potentiality. "That's fair."

At her acquiescence, Castle smiled, and Beckett thought how strange it was that it took fifteen minutes to see it from him today. "I was hoping I could make it up to you. Not," Castle grinned a little when her face flushed, "like that. At least not right now. I've been thinking about Christmas."

"Oh." The word felt like an ache behind her eyes.

"I think I told you about my ghosts of Christmas past the other night."

Beckett felt the corners of her mouth lift in an attempted smile. "My own Charles Dickens."

"Hardly," Castle said. "But I mean that the past is what the problem is for you, because of your Mother." He said the word almost reverently, lifting their joined hands so that he could press a preemptive apologetic kiss against her knuckles. Beckett felt another flush of emotion at the gesture, but furrowed her brow at him.

"I'm not sure I see your point."

"My point is that we should be focusing on the present, because that's what we really have the opportunity to fix. Carpe diem, and all that."

"Carpe diem," she repeated, uncertain. It felt like a tall order in the face of her current emotional state. "Castle, I just don't know if I can."

"Let me help you. Trust me, I have the best idea."

He looked too excited to challenge, so she bobbed her head in what she hoped was an expression of open curiosity. "What idea?"

"Have I ever told you about the donations I make before Christmas?"

Well, that wasn't what she was expecting. Beckett looked at him with the first twinge of interest she'd felt all week. With Castle, it was hard to stay disinterested.

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...

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Captain Montgomery had been quick to offer Beckett the day off on Wednesday to join Castle on his rounds. Too quick, really, and Beckett hadn't been able to keep from narrowing her eyes at him. But her captain remained unfathomable, so she decided to let it go and focus on Castle's plan. _Operation Santa_, as she was calling it by the end of the day. Though he seemed very concerned that she understand that the giving was partly a financial decision, "Tax write-offs, Beckett," she could tell that the real reason he did it was because he liked it. Because, she was reminded, that was the kind of man he was.

They spent the morning delivering a truckload of supplies to a homeless shelter in the Bronx. And between the grateful good cheer of the volunteers who helped them and watching Castle in a sweatshirt and jeans lifting heavy boxes for an hour, Beckett was feeling more relaxed than she had all month. When he caught her looking, she only shrugged and smirked. The intensity of the look he gave her left her mouth dry, so she wandered away to grab a bottle of water for each of them.

As much fun as it was to watch Castle doing manual labor, it was nothing like what came next. They had a quick but relaxed lunch at a deli near the shelter where they both worked hard to bridge the gap in their usual banter that the unfortunate incident on her couch had created. By the time they were leaving, the awkwardness was gone and they were back to barely suppressed innuendo and wanting glances. From there, Castle drove them to the children's hospital on fifth avenue.

When Beckett looked at him curiously, Castle just clapped his hands together and grinned at her with utter glee. It only took a minute to figure out why. A hospital coordinator who seemed to know Castle very well (too well, really, Beckett thought when the little blonde laughed and held Castle's hand too long while greeting him) met them outside and walked them over to a loading dock. There they found a mid-sized box truck filled to the brim with toys; bikes and books and games and musical instruments and a million other things.

"Castle, what did you do?" It's a good thing she was no long pretending she didn't care about him, because her voice was laced with affection. "This is all... You did all of this? These are for the kids?"

He did. They were. Castle and Beckett spent several hours working with hospital staff and volunteers to unload the gifts and wrap some up to be presented on Christmas day. When Beckett was looking for more to wrap, Castle curled his fingers around her wrist and shook his head, barely suppressing his delight. "You don't do the rest?" she asked, confused.

"Nope," he grinned. "They get some of those today. I figure, why only brighten one day when we can do two, or more?"

At some point late that afternoon Beckett was sitting on a leather couch in a waiting area that was glowing with the orange light of the setting sun. Tired, her head resting on her hand, she was watching Castle play guitar hero with a group of children, each of whom were protectively guarding some shiny new gift. They loved him. Beckett sighed and twisted her mouth on a small grin. She loved him. She could see today how he must have been with Alexis when she was young, and how he might be... Later.

Shaking her head, Beckett pushed those thoughts far, far away. What in the world had gotten in to her?

Later, while he was driving back to the truck rental, Beckett was resting her head against the cool window, watching as the nighttime settled slowly about the city. She turned to watch Castle drive, smiling at the look of pleased success that hadn't left his face all day, so apparent even in the semi-darkness.

"Those kids," she began. Castle chanced a glance at her before returning his eyes to the road. "They seemed happy."

"I think they were," Castle agreed.

"Some of them were really sick," Beckett said, but it wasn't sorrow that filled her voice. Instead a kind of realization twisting around the words to come to light.

"Yeah, but they're kids, you know? They can take a happy thing and just be happy. Even if everything else is really terrible." Castle paused to concentrate on his driving, navigating past some double parked taxis and meandering cyclists. Then he continued, "I think that's why I like doing this. Their joy is genuine."

Beckett took a chance and ghosted her fingers over the coarse stubble that was beginning to sprout at his jaw. Castle turned to her in surprise, eyes darting from her back to the road. "You're genuine," Beckett reflected.

"Thank you?"

"I once thought that you were childish, Castle. But I think it's just that you never lost that capacity for joy. It's a gift."

Castle nodded, and at the next stoplight he turned to her. In the red glow he smiled warmly. "That's exactly what I'm trying to share with you, Kate. My gift to you."

Beckett flushed, the color hidden by the external lights, and smiled at him. The moment was lost when the light changed, but she linked their hands, and they stayed that way until he dropped her off. At her building, he pulled up next to the curb and released her fingers. She smiled at him, warm and open. There was still a little stutter in their relationship, a tiny fragment of doubt circling her mind, but the day had gone a long way in silencing it.

So Castle took a deep breath, and turned to her. "Would you like to spend Christmas with me and my family?" he asked, nervous and expectant. He had clearly been working up the courage to ask.

Beckett's smile saddened, dropping until it was just an afterthought, and she shook her head. "I work Christmas," she said simply.

"No chance of getting the day off?" When she shook her head again, Castle dipped his head. "Okay. But, the invitation is open. If something changes."

Beckett smiled softly, reading the affection in his features. Inspired by the day and seeking to soothe the rejection, _among other things_, she leaned across the console and brushed her lips across his cheek, the stubble scratching enticingly against her skin. The contact lingered into almost indecency, and she hummed lightly against his skin.

When she pulled back he was gazing at her with unguarded happiness. "Good night, Castle. Thank you for including me today."

"Of course. Until tomorrow, Detective."

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...

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They were back. The banter, the heavy looks, the mind-meld thing, the coffee. _Mmm, the damn good coffee_, Beckett grinned, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear and glancing up at the man riding the elevator with her. Everything was back, and with this added expectation. She had never anticipated things going slowly with Castle, once they started. She had figured them for a hot and heavy, maybe not make it to the bed kind of consummation once they voiced their attraction.

But maybe this was better. They were absolutely headed toward something great, she could see it every time he smiled at her. And she was making an enormous effort not to let the impending holiday get her down. She had to admit, Castle was making it a lot easier to stay upbeat.

When the elevator doors opened, they found themselves staring at a bullpen full of officers and detectives staring back at them.

"Oh, hey guys." Ryan looked at them apologetically from the left hand side of the crowd. Esposito looked horrified.

"Hey..." Beckett narrowed her eyes. "What-?"

"Our first victims!" It was Montgomery's voice. There was something of an apology in his voice as well, but a gleam of ill-concealed humor in his eyes. Beckett glanced at him, eyes still narrowed, and fought the urge to let the elevator door close and hide them from their apparent audience. She stopped the closing door with her foot, and stepped off the elevator. Castle followed, crowding a little too close to her, clearly uncomfortable with the unexpected attention.

"Victims?" he asked meekly.

When Montgomery pointed, they looked up together, and found themselves standing under a sickly looking sprig of mistletoe. Great.

Just great.

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**A/N: **Thanks for reading! Long chapter is long! As outlined, this has three more chapters plus an epilogue (to be completed after the holidays) but it might stretch for one extra chapter.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: **Outline, shmoutline. Here's half a chapter to hold you over, lol.

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**...**

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Mistletoe? Great. No, really great.

Castle could feel himself starting to grin. Being a lover of Christmas, and a, uh, big fan of Beckett, he'd had many a mistletoe fantasy in his years at the precinct. He lowered his eyes from the accommodating branch to look at Beckett, who looked positively dismayed. Her eyes were wide, and as she looked out at their audience she crossed her arms over her chest.

"Very funny, guys."

"Oh, no, Detective," Montgomery casually leaned back against a desk, still doing a fair job of containing his obvious mirth. "Not funny at all. The 12th precinct's tradition of the first mistletoe kiss is serious business."

The ring of police officers grinned and nodded along. A murmured chorus of "very serious" made it's way around the group. Their laughter was becoming a steady background buzz.

"Captain, you can't be serious."

"Last year," Montgomery continued, "it was Ryan and Jenny. And rumor has it there's been some recent ring shopping."

Ryan sat up abruptly and punched Espo in the shoulder.. "Shut up. No. That's supposed to be on the down low, man." Esposito only shrugged, smirking.

"The year it was Santa and the UPS girl. I've still got a picture of that on my phone. And years ago, it was Esposito-"

"Sir, no. We don't talk about that," Esposito interrupted, ears taking on a distinct red tint. _Intrigue_, Castle thought. Determinedly, Espo turned back to the couple currently in the crosshairs. "So, come on, Castle. Lay one on her."

When Beckett turned back to him, her jaw dropped. She must have been able to read the amusement on his face. Castle only shrugged and turned to face her fully.

"You can't be serious."

"It's tradition, Beckett."

"Really?" The word held both a note of scorn, and also an honest question. _Really, Castle, you're going to do this?_

Playing to his audience now, Castle grinned at them with a little bow before turning back to Beckett and miming his way through a small play. He flexed his knees, lowering himself so they were the same height before standing back up and frowning. He leaned back, one hand pulling at his imaginary beard, and considered her. He cast a twinkling gaze over the watching officers and winked.

"We don't normally do this. Some preparation is key."

"Castle," Beckett hissed.

"Hmm?" He held his hands out at arms length to grasp her coat, tugging and adjusting so that she was forced to shimmy a little closer to him.

"Five minutes ago you were hiding behind me because you were afraid of them."

"Five minutes ago, I thought they were mad at me," Castle countered, to the sniggers of the crowd, and then let his hands rest on her shoulders. Meeting her gaze a little more seriously, he lowered his voice so only she could hear. "Now I know they only want what I want."

Beckett's eyes widened even more if that was possible, before she seemed to relax into the moment. Her mouth opened as if to say something, but then Montgomery's voice was booming across the bullpen.

"We don't have all day."

Castle smiled broadly at that. The moment was upon them and his mind was made up. He tugged her closer, making sure they were both standing under the mistletoe, noting the blush that was creeping up her neck. He took it as a positive sign, and when combined with the fact that she was actually still standing there in front of him, as acquiescence. For better or for worse...

With a hand at her jaw to guide her to him, Castle leaned down and kissed her. When their lips touched, there was laughter and clapping from the group around them. Despite the crowd, Castle could feel himself falling into the woman who meant so much to him and pressing more firmly than appropriate for a public setting. Beckett's lips were soft and she tasted like chap stick and _oh _then she was kissing him back.

There were wolf whistles and whoops when he palmed her cheek more fully and slid his other hand around her waist to draw her closer. She was really warm, her lips moving slowly under his, one hand now curled around his bicep. They continued to kiss, Castle angling his head a little to create more friction, and the others in the room grew uncomfortably silent. It wasn't until Beckett released a harsh puff of air against his lips, a kind of silent gasp, that he realized he had started to push her backward, looking for something to press her against. The hand on his arm squeezed tightly in warning.

Oh.

Right.

They pulled apart slowly, the air flowing between them cold compared to the hot touch of skin, their breath coming a little more quickly than normal. Almost afraid of what he might see, Castle chanced to look at the watching officers. He found that the group had dwindled considerably, and that those left were watching with slack faces, eyebrows raised. Montgomery pursed his lips and tilted his head in a silent reprimand, _You took it too far, Castle_, though his lips twitched on a suppressed smile. He left, collecting Ryan and Esposito, both of whom looked strangely impressed and scarred at the same time, and guiding the rest of the group away.

They were relatively alone. Finally dropping his hands to his side, Castle looked back down at Beckett and realized she hadn't so much as moved an inch. Her cheeks were still flushed and her eyes were downcast.

"Kate," he began, but she looked up at him and took two steps backward. Unspeaking, she touched the fingers of one hand to her mouth before shaking her head at him. She turned, and escaped into the nearby stairwell.

Castle stood very still. It had been a mistake, hadn't it? He should have just given her a peck, or a kiss on the cheek, or declined completely. But, no, how could what they'd just shared have been a mistake? It was like getting a window into the kind of thing they might be doing more in the near future. Audience or not. Contrived or not. He didn't care. He wasn't sorry.

Except that Beckett had just slipped away from him looking like she'd been slapped, not kissed, and now he had to find her. The elevator dinged, and the small crowd of off-loading people pushed Castle to the side, and spurred him to motion. With a small rush of adrenaline, he took off after her. When the stairwell door slammed behind him, he called, "Kate! Beckett!"

In his blind haste, he almost ran past her where she was leaning against the cement wall, but once again her hand was on his arm and restraining him. She let him go quickly, and Castle took a deep breath while he regarded her. There were bright spots high up on her cheeks and her breathing was still too quick. Her mouth was pursed. Damn it.

"I'm sorry," he started. It was an offering, a _please don't be mad at me_.

"Sorry?" She was looking at him with quiet, dark eyes. But she wasn't yelling at him and she wasn't running away.

"I shouldn't have..." but Castle stopped himself. Bad idea or not, he wasn't going to apologize for a thing he wasn't sorry for. "I'm sorry you're angry."

Beckett's eyes flashed upward at him. "Angry?"

Monosyllabic Beckett was a new thing, and Castle felt a tight knot forming in his chest. "I know, it's my fault. I shouldn't have, I mean, I didn't have to take it so far, I guess. I got carried away."

"I'm not angry, Castle."

And then she was smiling at him, just a small thing at first that grew until she was practically beaming. Castle felt his own face go slack with wonder. He reconsidered her flushed cheeks, her rapid breaths.

Oh.

"You're not angry with me?"

Beckett shook her head, teeth catching on her lip to reign in the ridiculous dimensions of her smile. "No."

"You're not angry." Castle was flooded with relief to the point that he could physically feel the anxiety leaving him, his breath coming more easily, his shoulders relaxing. Beckett shook her head again.

"Not angry," he repeated, lowering his voice. "I can work with that."

He stepped closer to her, and the flutter of her lashes and the brightening of her cheeks was all the evidence he needed. No, she wasn't angry at all. One of Beckett's hands reached out hesitantly, fingertips catching his lapel lightly, tugging. Not angry. Wanting.

He could work with that.

Stepping closer, never so happy to be out of the spotlight than at this moment, Castle leaned in and kissed her the way he'd always wanted to. Finally.

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**A/N**: Thanks for reading! Would love to know what you think!


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: **_**ERMAGHERD, **_**this is the fourth and hopefully last time I try to post this chapter. I deleted the chapter and the doc, gave it a few hours, and hopefully this sticks. Please, fanfic lords, help me out. I apologize for what must be multiple chapter alerts to ye olde wonderful story followers.**

**A/N: **I almost abandoned this story to end at the last chapter, but just in case you still feel like reading a holiday fic in January, the rest is finished.

One chapter a day until it's all up. Theoretically. Website permitting.

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Stepping closer, never so happy to be out of the spotlight than at this moment, Castle leaned in and kissed her the way he'd always wanted to. Finally.

His hands settled into the curve of her waist as if they'd known all along that was where they belonged, and Beckett sighed against his mouth. Without an audience watching them now, Castle stepped even closer so that he could feel the warmth of her body all along his and ran the tip of his tongue over her lower lip. Beckett moaned softly, barely audibly, her body shifting easily against his. Her mouth opened so that he could deepen their kiss and he slid his tongue lazily into her mouth, teasing. With her arms wound around his neck Beckett slid the fingers of one hand into his hair and tugged gently. His fingers tightened around her at the pleasant sensation. Her hips canted toward his subtly, languidly, an expression of unrushed desire.

The had all the time in the world.

This was heaven.

They were so enthralled by each other that the sudden bang of the stairwell door opening only gradually filtered down into their consciousness. Pulling only barely apart, warm lips separating reluctantly and eyes sluggish to open, they turned distracted and half-lidded eyes toward their interrupter.

It was Ryan, poking his head just as reluctantly around the door and avoiding making eye contact even as he was grinning at them. With muffled curses and sheepish grins, Castle and Beckett separated more fully. Hands slid away from skin and away from hair and clothing was quickly adjusted, even though that was more out of instinct than anything. While Beckett proceeded to blush one of the brightest reds that Ryan had ever seen in his lifetime and her eyes remained averted, Castle only stuffed his hands in his pocket and laughed. _His _eyes were gleaming.

"What's up, Ryan?"

Ryan coughed, and shrugged. "Sorry guys. Captain wants everyone inside. We've got a big one." He left then, letting the door shut behind him with a knowing look at Castle and Beckett.

They grinned at each other in the silence. Still a little red in the cheeks, Beckett leaned back against the wall and tucked her hair behind her ears. When she didn't speak, Castle tilted his head.

"So, they ambushed us," he said with amusement, his voice pitched low and intimate.

"Yeah." Beckett shook her head slightly and shrugged, amused.

"I'm glad they did." Castle shuffled forward to close some of the distance that they had created when Ryan interrupted.

"Yeah."

But when he tried to step even closer she held a hand out, her fingertips resting on his chest to stop him. When he did stop, Beckett allowed her smile to widen ever so slightly and slid the full weight of her palm up his chest to his neck. A tease if ever there was one. Her thumb drifted briefly over his jaw and she used the light pressure of her hand to keep him still while she stretched up on her tiptoes-she was only in three-inch heeled boots today-to press her lips to the very corner of his mouth.

The contact lingered, and her fingers were caressing the nape of his neck when she did finally pull away. She was still shaking her head_, I can't believe this is a thing we're doing_, when she lowered her hand completely and headed toward the doorway.

"Come on, Castle. Sounds like we've got a murder to solve."

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They were sitting at her desk a week later, Beckett with her head down and Castle leaning back haphazardly in his chair, not caring that he was in danger of toppling over backward. Despite the best efforts of the team to find the evidence to link the undoubted murderer to the crime, he remained free, and they were exhausted. The week since the mistletoe incident, as everyone in the precinct seemed to be referring to it, had passed without notice, buried by the gruesome facts and the long slog of futile effort.

Rubbing a hand down his face, Castle chanced a look at Beckett and sighed. Her hands were clenched in her hair, pulling it back from the stark relief of her cheekbones. She looked too pale except for the dark smudges under her eyes; eyes that were bloodshot from fatigue and glazed over and unseeing despite being pointed in the general direction of some evidence on her desk.

Castle made up his mind and the front legs of his chair clanked down on the floor as he stood up. Beckett looked up with wide eyes at his suddenly towering form.

"What are you doing?"

"Come on, Beckett. Dinner time."

She sighed and glanced back at her desk. "Castle..."

"Nope. You weren't reading it anyway. I need a break, Beckett. Do it for me."

When she hesitated, he took it as a reluctant yes. He rolled her chair away from her desk while she was still sitting in it, and held out her coat to help her slip it on. He waited with the warm wool hanging from his fingers like an offering, wiggling his eyebrows a little, until she gave in.

"Okay. But a quick dinner. Something small."

"Fine." Castle gave a small sigh of relief when she finally stood and let him help her into her coat. He took the opportunity to squeeze her shoulders quickly, a small token of friendship and solidarity and empathy. The look she shot him was part _not in the precinct _and part _thank you_. They hadn't had a chance to share so much as a meal outside of the precinct since they had made out in the stairwell after the mistletoe incident, but for Castle all of the evidence was stacking up in the odds of their favor.

She let him hold her hand when they weren't in the building. She confided a little more than usual about how the case was getting her down. She didn't try so hard to hide her smiles at his jokes, though they had been fewer than usual this week. And the way she looked at him sometimes, like she was right then...

Her eyes were like a promise. For them, as soon as this was over, as soon as they could focus back on something than the job and this case. So they walked to Remy's, Castle rebutting her complaint that it would take too long and they should just drive with a simple, "The fresh air will do us good."

Halfway there, she let him slip his hand into hers and bumped her shoulder into his. Castle smiled, though the contact might have just been fatigue stealing her usual grace. She was clumsy with it, awkward where she wouldn't usually be, and too quiet. Castle had been trying to fill some of that silence with good cheer, though he had found it difficult to find the line between festive and offensive in the light of the crime they were working.

He sighed again, it seemed to be all he was doing these days, like the air didn't contain as much oxygen as usual, and he could feel her turn a little toward him as they walked.

"You okay?" she asked, voice low and close.

"Yeah." He wasn't sure if he was lying or not. He looked in some of the store shops they were passing, workers getting ready to close up due to the late hour but still lit for the holiday that the victims would never see. "I miss Christmas."

He hadn't meant to say it, hadn't even realized that he was thinking it. Beckett's hand tightened sharply around his, her face turning up to him with a kind of anguish that he couldn't quiet place. She said nothing but her hand remained clamped around his for the rest of their walk. As they neared their destination, Castle sighed again, _again_, and brushed a kiss to the top of her head in apology. For what, he wasn't quite sure. For making them walk when driving would have been faster. For the case. For not being able to bring her Christmas like he had tried to do.

For all of those things. For none of them. He worked very hard to keep from sighing again as he held the door for her.

The restaurant seemed very bright after the nighttime walk, and they blinked away the blur as they slid into a booth; their regular place. The thought made him smile a little, _their spot_, and he looked up to share the thought with Beckett, but she was staring at her phone with her mouth half open. Castle felt his heart drop. He didn't think they could take any more bad news.

"Is it... what is it?"

"They got him."

Castle sat up straight. "What?"

Beckett was smiling grimly. "That was Esposito. They caught him in a lie about when he checked out of that Marriot. I guess, it was just a text and it's Espo so not a lot of info here," she held up her phone, "but it sounded like the guy paid off the night watchman. I guess that guy had some second thoughts about it."

Castle let himself smile, even if it was a bit soon. "So it's over."

"Yeah. They sent some uniforms to arrest the guy. He's in custody. It's over."

Beckett put her phone down with a heavy hand and Castle watched as she visibly unwound. Her breathing slowed, her shoulders relaxed. When she looked at him, the lines of her face had smoothed considerably. She looked younger, a little more innocent. Like she had when she first met him.

Then she met his gaze, and the corners of her mouth twitched. There was still the ghost of their rough week etched in the shadows of her face, but she was smiling at him. "So, I guess we have time to enjoy our burgers, if you want."

He returned the grin enthusiastically. "Oh, I want."

"I hope that's not all you want." Beckett bit her lip, and Castle watched as her cheeks pinked at her own words. Her shyness in their new relationship continually surprised him. It was like she had never really considered saying some of the things she said to him, like she had never considered being able to hold his hand, like she never thought that their never ending innuendo would lead somewhere. And every time it did, it caught her unawares.

"Oh, Beckett. Kate. I think you have a pretty good idea of all of the things I want." Much to his delight she blushed again, but didn't dispute his declaration.

They ate their burgers and shakes in a companionable silence full of meaningful looks and a few brushes of their legs under the table. They chatted lightly over pie, avoiding the topic of the case. Beckett asked about Alexis and Castle dramatically lamented the fact that his little girl might be leaving even earlier than he had suspected.

Their pie was finished, but neither one of them was ready to leave. Brushing his fingers over hers on the table, Castle asked, "Coffee?"

She nodded assent, a quiet look of tired contentment on her face. As they lingered over their drinks, Castle finally remembered to ask something he'd been wondering about for days.

"So, what happened the year that Espo got caught under the mistletoe?"

Beckett laughed out loud, covering her mouth with one hand, her eyes twinkling. Castle couldn't help but return her gleeful expression. "Well," she began, still chuckling, "let's just say that he didn't know what he was getting in to."

Castle shook his head. "No, you must tell me the whole story. It's important that I know everything I can possibly know that I can use against him."

Beckett was still laughing, trying and failing to manage sip of coffee between hiccups. "I swore an oath of silence."

"I'll make it up to you." He leaned in and raised an eyebrow, smirking suggestively. "Tell me."

She regarded him with laughing eyes, and then shrugged. "Well, he can't kill me anyway, Lanie wouldn't talk to him after that. So, you didn't hear it from me..."

Castle shook his head, _no, of course not_, eyebrows rising in anticipation.

"...but the Sexy Santa he had been trying to talk up for weeks let him have a kiss under the mistletoe. Which is when Espo discovered that this Santa was a little more... uh... male than it seemed."

Castle's face lit up. "No!"

"Yes. Tranny Santa was a great addition to the Christmas party that year. He danced up a storm."

They laughed together, Beckett giggling far more easily than Castle had seen before.

"Kate Beckett you are almost giddy."

"I feel lighter."

"Good!" He punctuated the sentiment by bringing his coffee down a little harder than he meant to and spent the next minute using all of the available napkins to clean up his mess. When he looked up, Beckett was still smiling, though her grin had morphed into a considerably more affectionate version. His heart warmed.

"Spend Christmas with me."

Beckett's face fell instantly like she'd been doused in cold water, and he wished had hadn't said it. He'd already asked, she'd already said no. He felt like an ass for ruining their first light-hearted moment in a week. So before she could speak he jumped in.

"No, never mind. I shouldn't have asked again."

"Castle," Beckett began, her fingers pressing into her re-furrowed brow. "It's not that I don't want to be there, exactly..."

Castle held up his hands. "Don't. I really shouldn't have asked. And I shouldn't have ruined this night. To make it up to you, I will buy us more milkshakes."

"Castle!" Beckett laughed at that. "I literally could not stuff another milkshake into my belly if I needed to to save my life. One was plenty."

At her laugh, Castle relaxed. He hadn't ruined their unexpected fun by letting his mouth run away from him.

"I have a counter offer. Let me take you to the party tomorrow."

Beckett's brow furrowed in confusion. "What party?"

Castle raised an eyebrow. "The precinct Christmas party."

"That's not till Saturday, Castle."

"Today is Friday."

She stared at him as realization dawned. She double checked his claim on her phone, and then stared at him again. "Wow. I had no idea."

Castle shrugged one shoulder. "This week got away from us."

"I feel like we've missed enough time," Beckett murmured, haltingly, meeting his gaze with warm but sad eyes. Her voice came in measured fits and starts as she tried to wrap some words around her feelings. " I don't like the idea that more slipped away and I wasn't even aware of it."

"Let's just agree not to miss any more. Let me take you to the party."

Beckett's smile was shy again. "And let everyone know about us?"

Castle grinned and squeezed her hand. He leaned in to whisper conspiratorially, "Maybe you forgot, but everyone in the building saw us under the mistletoe. I think the secret is out."

Beckett blushed hard at that, shaking her head. "I'm going to kill Montgomery, and it will be up to you to help me cover it up."

"He is a man with a plan," Castle agreed, smirking. "I'll have to make sure I shake his hand."

Beckett rolled her eyes at that. "So, you're going to be my date?" When he nodded, she grinned. "Wait till Lanie hears."

Their coffee was gone, and when Beckett interrupted herself with another big yawn, Castle decided to call it a night. It wasn't that late, but the lure of a warm bed and a full night's sleep was particularly strong now that their hell week was over.

"Can I walk you home?"

Beckett yawned again, and shook her head. "Too far for walking. I'll go back and get the cruiser."

"What if I called for a car? Save you the time. I'm picking you up for the party tomorrow anyway, you won't need it."

Her answering smile was grateful, her eyes sleepy in their agreement. Their ride arrived quickly, the perks of being a millionaire, and Castle helped her into the back with gently guiding hands. The fatigue was overwhelming even the good humor of the evening, and mere moments after they set off Beckett was half asleep on his shoulder.

Castle wrapped his arm around her, protective and comforting, and guided her head to rest on his chest so she could relax more fully. They stayed that way until he was rousing her from a dozing sleep at her apartment.

"I'll walk you up."

She pressed her sleepy smile into his shoulder, her arm linked with his. They walked slowly, leaning into each other, Castle using his free hand to touch her fingers and her wrist and play with the cuff of her jacket. At her door, she turned to him and smiled a smile that begged to be kissed.

So he did, gently, non presuming. Her face in his hands, her arms wrapped around his back, their lips moving gently together. This was all he needed in his life. Instead of pulling away, he rested his forehead against hers. This night was the first time they'd been alone and unencumbered since she had told him she wasn't angry about their mistletoe kiss, and he had thoroughly enjoyed it.

"Castle," Beckett murmured, her breath brushing against his lips, "I'm not... I don't think..."

"Shh. I know. Not tonight." He smiled the words at her, so she would know there wasn't a problem here. "We're both exhausted."

Beckett hummed in agreement, leaning forward to rest her head heavily on his shoulder, her eyes closed.

"Don't fall asleep," he whispered, though his hands were firm and warm at her back, and she laughed quietly as she moved away. As she opened her door she gave him a warm smile that gave a hint to everything their future might hold together.

"Night, Castle."

"Until tomorrow, Kate. I'll pick you up at seven."

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As Castle was getting back into his town car, he pulled out his phone to check the time. It wasn't even ten o'clock yet, so he flipped through his contacts. Finding the one he was looking for, he hit send and leaned back in his seat, closing the car door with one hand.

"Hi, Jim? This is Richard Castle. Yeah, I'm great, you? Good. I was wondering if you might have time to get some coffee tomorrow morning. Ten thirty? Sounds great. Yes, never been there, but I know where it is. Perfect. See you tomorrow. Good night."

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**A/N**: My fanfic resolution is to never start posting something that's not finished ever ever again. :) Thanks for reading, please review!


	9. Chapter 9

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Beckett slept until late morning the day of the precinct Christmas party, and for once she couldn't bring herself to feel guilty about it. She was warm and comfortable and when she woke she had that nearly-hung-over feel that comes from a long hard sleep after going without. Rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, she stretched hard enough that little spots appearing in her vision, and then dropped back to the bed with her muscles loose and limbs akimbo.

She did need to get up. Because she had Christmassy things to do, as Castle would say, though mostly that entailed a few phone calls. Well, a few phone calls and some good luck, but she could really only control one of those things. And she would need to get ready for the party, too. More excited than she would ever admit, she turned over onto her back and hugged a pillow to her chest, grinning at nothing.

This was going to be their first real date. Castle had asked her out, he was picking her up, they were going to a party, they were going to get dressed up for each other... Or rather, she'd be in a little black dress for him. There was always the chance with Castle that he'd show up in a damn Santa suit. Beckett grinned again. She wouldn't mind if he did. Maybe she'd consider adding a little Christmas flair to her own outfit. Mistletoe earrings, or something.

Chuckling at her own silliness, she sat up and yawned. She had things to do. Plucking her snuggie from it's bedside location she tugged it over her head and fought the urge to flop back into bed again. She felt lazy and snug and her to-do list was important but low-stress and she was looking forward to her day and her night, and the sensations all combined into something unfamiliar that it took her a moment to put her finger on.

Oh.

She felt happy. She buried her face into her fleece cocoon at the epiphany, smiling to herself. It was Castle's doing, mostly. Because this time of year was when she usually holed up and... no. Castle had made this huge effort to keep her from falling into the usual depression, and she wasn't going to throw away his hard work or her perfectly good mood by indulging in the usual psychological traps.

She stood abruptly, determined to keep her emotional momentum, but when she wandered out to her kitchen like normal there was a problem. She didn't want mediocre coffee from her dingy old coffee pot. She wanted a white peppermint mocha, because Castle had been positively spoiling her with them all month. She wrinkled her nose and put her hands on her hips, burrowing her fingers in the soft fleece. Quite the Saturday conundrum: did she stay in her warm pajamas and drink coffee that was only okay or get dressed in real world clothes and go get the sparkly Christmas coffee she wanted?

Beckett stood in the warm morning sunlight that was filtering in through the window and shook her head at herself with a sigh. She'd better get dressed.

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Castle was also out and about the city that afternoon. After breakfast with Jim Beckett, which had gone _very _well, he found himself on Fifth Avenue, trying to find something for Beckett. He didn't want to get her something big to unwrap on Christmas day for a couple of reasons, the foremost being that she was only tentatively warming up to the holiday cheer, and he didn't want to scare the sentiment away before it had time to set down roots.

But he remembered the way she'd gotten so emotional about the snuggie he'd left at her door. She could deny, deny, deny all she wanted but Castle knew that she liked getting gifts, as long as they weren't too extravagant. So for tonight, he needed something that skirted that line of special but not-too-much, and something that came with a holiday theme.

Castle could hear even in his own head how high-maintenance he was as a gift buyer, and the exasperated looks on some of the sales ladies faces confirmed it. They could always tell he had money when he walked in the door, either by the quality of his clothes or the way he didn't even raise an eyebrow at the prices, and every single one of them today was trying to sell him something uber-expensive for his 'special lady's Christmas gift'.

They weren't listening, so he found himself moving away from the high-end stores. It was getting late as he wandered the streets, the time to give up and head back to the loft to change for the evening bearing down on him with surprising speed, so he decided to try one store. It was a little independent jeweler off the beaten path, and Castle entered with some trepidation and less confidence than he'd been carrying earlier that morning.

What he found instead of pushy salespeople was just one easy-going, wizened old man with a beard that was mostly grey and kind blue eyes; the jeweler and proprietor himself. After introducing himself, Castle tried to explain what he needed.

"And it's not that I _can't _buy her something expensive, but it'll make her uncomfortable." He trailed his gloved hands over the glass as he walked slowly through the store, peering at the merchandise. "What I need is something she likes but that doesn't make her feel guilty that I bought it."

Nick, the jeweler, nodded knowingly. "Lots of people feel that way, especially early in a relationship. How long have you known her?"

Castle laughed, looking up, and rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, three years. But we've only recently, uh, gotten together."

The older man nodded and smiled warmly, "Ah, those relationships that need to percolate a little longer in the beginning usually turn out to be the best ones! You two should be very happy together," he enthused. "See anything you like?"

Castle shrugged noncommittally. "It's all very nice, but..."

"Okay, let's see. What are you thinking? Bracelet? Necklace? Ring?"

"Not a ring," Castle rushed to clarify, the tips of his ears getting hot when the jeweler smiled broadly at his interruption. "I was thinking necklace, really."

Nick disappeared into the back, leaving Castle to wander. He was staring at the glittering arrangement of engagement rings without really meaning to, wondering if that was what he might be shopping for this time next year. The possibility left him smiling down at the diamonds and the gold, wondering, and that's how Nick found him when he returned.

Ignoring the obvious, the jeweler simply held up a small collection of boxes. "Christmas-themed, right? How do you feel about these?" Keeping most of the boxes on his side of the counter, he slid the first offering across the glass, peering up at Castle over gold-rimmed glasses. His whiskers were twitching and his eyes crinkling as he grinned.

Castle's eyes lit up. It was perfect. With careful hands, Castle lifted the necklace a little closer to inspect it. It was a Christmas tree pendant on a gold chain. The tree was made of emerald with a smattering of ruby, and outlined in gold. It was beautiful, finely crafted, not too big, just what he'd been looking for. Perfect. He looked from the necklace back to the man in front of him.

"You've been holding out on me," he admonished lightly.

"Well," the jeweler said, "most of the people who come in here aren't looking for something like this. Though it's one of my favorites."

Castle just closed the box with finality. "I'll take it. Can you wrap it?"

"Of course! You mentioned it's for tonight, am I right? I'll just wrap it up for you and you can give it to your girl just in time for the party." He began to wrap as he spoke, and Castle noted the classy antique feeling of the paper he was using. A little old-timey, a little timeless. Again, perfect, and Castle felt a strange affection for the old man behind the counter, who was still speaking. "...anyway if you decide that you want it engraved, there's room enough on the back for a 'Merry Christmas, Kate', or something of the like. I'd be happy to do it for you here."

"Thank you so much," Castle said enthusiastically, taking the gift bag. "Really, you've been so helpful."

"It's what I do," the old man shrugged, and waved him out of the store with a, "Merry Christmas, Rick!"

Castle's cab was three blocks away before he realized he couldn't remember ever actually telling the jeweler Kate's name. Or his own. He turned and looked back through the rear window, but he had covered too much distance and the sidewalks were too crowded with Christmas shoppers for him to see the store. A quick check of his watch reminded him that he was running too late now to go back. Slowly, he turned back in his seat, brow furrowed. He must have told him without meaning to. There was no other explanation.

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It was a quarter to seven, and Beckett was almost ready to go. She was wearing a little black dress, as she had promised herself earlier, and had found a pair of emerald earrings to add a little festiveness to her outfit. Warm black winter tights to combat the weather just added to her already long, sleek look. Her shoes were by the door, her hair and make up done. There was also a little twinge of nervous excitement burrowing into her chest as she spritzed a little perfume and regarded herself in the mirror.

She smiled at her reflection and walked back to her bed, her stockinged feet padding silently along the floor. There was one more thing she was considering wearing, but she was undecided. _It is a Christmas party, after all_, she thought as she chewed contemplatively on her thumbnail and looked at her possible accessory. Then she jerked her hand away from her face and checked the damage. She had painted her nails a sultry kind of red, and if she had thoughtlessly ruined the job she would be so disappointed. But all ten were still perfect, and she bit her lip.

She hoped Castle liked the effect.

With that in mind, she picked up the broad, silky red scarf from her bed and wrapped it high around her waist, tying a bow left of center. It took a few tries to get the _unwrap me, Castle _effect she was going for without looking like something from a 90's clothing catalogue, but she was satisfied in the end. The long ends of the scarf flowed down along her hip, adding a little color, too. And there was still time to change her mind, but the red matched her nails and she was feeling more and more confident about the look the longer she wore it.

What had he said about wanting to unwrap Santa's presents?

She giggled to herself, a warm flushed feeling infusing her blood, and was considering pouring herself a glass of wine to curb her nerves when her phone rang with a familiar ring tone. Checking the display to be sure, she nodded to herself. She might be able to arrange Castle's Christmas present before the holiday, after all. She swiped her thumb on the screen to answer the call.

"Hello, is this the Santa hotline returning my call?" she laughed as she answered.

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Suited up, wearing a green shirt and no tie under his black jacket, Castle stood for a brief moment outside of Beckett's apartment to collect himself. He had her present in his suit pocket, but took it out instead. Nervously, he mimed offering it to her when she answered the door, and stuffed it back in his pocket. That was better.

No, not better. He took it out, did his best to affect some nonchalance, one foot out a little awkwardly and one elbow resting on the doorframe, and knocked. He was midway through changing his mind again, the gift half exposed and half hidden by his jacket, when she opened the door.

Oh, damn.

She looked amazing. She was on her phone when she opened the door, smiling at him with twinkling eyes and gesturing him in while humming vague responses into her phone.

'Lanie,' she mouthed, pointing at the phone. She ran an affectionate hand down his lapel while still obviously listening to her friend. She was so distracted that her fingers actually grazed the box in his hand without noticing. Castle had the opportunity to take her in when she turned to lead him further inside, and gulped. She looked amazing, as always, her dress showing off all of her best qualities, and wait. Was she dressed up _like a present? _

He looked down at the one in his hands, thinking that it could never really compare if she was. A little nervous, he rested a hip against her counter and watched while she tried to wind the conversation down. His gift rested lightly in his fingers.

"Mm hmm. Okay. Yeah, thank you again. I'll see you tonight, s-"

She was cut off, or otherwise interrupted, and then she put her phone down. She turned to look at him with eyes that were bright and widened by what looked like excitement, if the fact that she was standing mostly on just her toes was any indication. She was practically thrumming with energy, even looking a little flushed, and Castle found it impossibly endearing.

"Hey, Castle," she grinned, eyes locked with his.

"Hey back. You look amazing."

Her smile widened, her lower lip drawn partway between her teeth like she still couldn't believe their good fortune, and she closed the gap between them. He leaned down to help her close the distance when she stretched up all the way on her tiptoes, and she kissed him.

"You look great, too." Her eyes were wandering to take him in, and Castle had the opportunity to watch her face when she noticed that he was holding a little wrapped box. She looked quietly delighted.

She looked up at him through her lashes and raised an eyebrow. "That for me?"

At his nod, she shook her head at him, though still smiling. "It's not even Christmas, Castle." Her fingers belied her words though, taking the box from him and running over the paper.

"It's not a Christmas present," he said with a grin. "It's a Christmas party present. A whole different thing."

The suppressed eye roll was exactly what he was looking for, but it was only for show and they both knew it.

"The paper's beautiful," she murmured, head cocked slightly to one side while she looked at it. She flicked her eyes back up to his, returning his gaze. "I've never seen anything like it."

"I think," Castle said slowly, "it might be very special. But that's a story for a different day. Open it."

She did, her fingers moving rapidly over the paper and then, her eyes moving between the box and his face, she opened it. Beckett gasped, and he grinned.

"Castle, this is beautiful. It's so... it's perfect."

"I'm glad you like it." Castle lowered his voice and stepped a little closer. He ran his fingers over the exposed skin of her arm and then took the necklace from her. She turned in front of him and held her hair over one shoulder while he helped her put it on, fingers only fumbling slightly on the clasp.

"I love it," she murmured, leaning back into him when he brushed his lips over the exposed skin of her neck. From this vantage point, he could see the swell of one cheek as she smiled, and the way her lowered lashes brushed against her skin. Gorgeous, from any perspective. He wrapped his arms around her and rested his clasped hands casually at her belly.

"I guess we have to go to this party now," he complained with a laugh, his nose brushing her ear.

She laughed with him, twisted to kiss him briefly, then disengaged to slip on her shoes and coat. "Come on, Castle, I want to show off my present."

Leering a little, he raised his eyebrows. "Does that mean I get to show off mine?"

She blushed, giving him a look, but shrugged and met his gaze. "I guess it's only fair."

"Then after you, madam."

He held the door for her and they stepped out together, arms linked, the glittering red and green necklace highlighting how their outfits matched. A picture-perfect couple, on their very first date.

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**A/N**: Thank you for reading, and the favs and follows and reviews! I'd love to know what you think!


	10. Chapter 10

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The precinct had rented a hall at the downtown Hyatt for the party, and the first thing Castle and Beckett saw when they entered the room was Lanie. Lanie, decked out in a black Santa dress with fluffy red fringe around the hem and sleeves. Lanie, who's green elf shoes had actual bells on the tips of the toes. Lanie, who's dress was cut low enough to show the green lace of her bra, and who's black, red, and green Santa hat was settled so jauntily on her head it appeared to be in perpetually grave danger of falling off.

Not that it would have mattered, Beckett thought. Several eligible young officers were standing around her, laughing and pushing to get the closest to her, and surely any one of them would be chivalrous enough to scoop up her hat before it hit the ground. Knowing exactly what she was doing, laughing and lightly touching the arms and shoulders of the men around her, leaning subtly forward, Lanie had the air of a forty's-era dame holding court.

Esposito was glowering so forcefully, so completely, that when Beckett caught sight of him off to one side of the large group of suitors she couldn't contain the laugh that escaped. Luckily, Esposito remained oblivious. But the sound caught Lanie's attention, and she let out a squeal and, with little thought to her gentleman callers, skipped toward them, bells ringing. As she made her way merrily across the festively decorated hall, Castle squeezed the arm he had slung casually around Beckett's waist, bringing her close enough that he could whisper into her ear.

"Do you have a Santa dress like that somewhere, too?"

She stepped back and frowned at him, creating some space, unimpressed. "I thought you liked what I was wearing."

Castle's eyes widened comically, his face a narrative of regret, his hands coming up to wipe away the words that he had said while his mouth opened wordlessly. Just as Lanie was bouncing over to them, Beckett gave in and let her humor show, grinning, then winking evilly at him when his expression changed from horror to wounded.

"You had me worried," he muttered, but she never got a chance to reply.

Lanie crashed into her at full gallop with a squeak and a loud jangle of her bells. "Kate!" The force of the collision caused Beckett to take a few wobbly steps back in her heels, thankful for Castle's hand that was suddenly at her back again, and it knocked the already precariously situated Santa hat right off of Lanie's head. Just as Beckett had envisioned earlier, Castle leapt forward to snatch the hat up before it hit the questionable hotel floor, saving it from a microbial fate.

"Kate Beckett!" Lanie repeated, still squealing and bouncing on her toes. "I'm so happy for you guys. I didn't know you were coming _together_!" She hugged a laughing Beckett fiercely before releasing her and giving Castle his own equally enthusiastic hug and turning all three of them around in a giddy circle.

They all three were laughing with Lanie's contagious excitement, then Castle shot Beckett a look. "You didn't mention it when you guys were on the phone earlier?"

"On the phone?" Lanie asked, finally stopping the bouncing and cocking her head at him. "When-"

"Of course I mentioned it," Beckett interrupted. While Castle was busy resituating Lanie's hat on top of her head, Beckett grimaced at Lanie and shook her head minutely. _Shh_. "You probably just thought I meant we'd both be here, not that we'd be arriving together. Anyway, which of those boys are you planning on taking home tonight?"

Beckett nodded at the crowd that was still sending longing looks toward Lanie and her costume; just one un-subtle transition away from blowing her super secret Christmassy things.

"I think the real question is, which of those guys are you going to be lining up for Esposito to murder," Castle nodded toward the Hispanic detective. Espo had lost some of his tension and his color had returned to normal, but he was still glaring at the other men. Lanie giggled and shrugged, not denying it.

"Come on, you two, you both need some eggnog," she said, assuming her rightful place as Beckett's second-in-command of subtle transitions, and led them firmly toward the bar.

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...

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Later, while Castle headed back to the bar to get them refills-wine, not eggnog, things were getting pretty tipsy already and the night was still young-Beckett slinked through the merry crowd of dancers on her way toward the edge of the dance floor. She'd seen Kevin and Jenny in her peripheral vision, and she had some thanking to do.

Breathing hard from the exertion of keeping up with the high-energy crowd, Beckett swiped one thumb across her eyebrow to collect the sweat there, twisting to keep her elbows from smashing into anyone, and grinned when she finally reached her destination.

"Hey guys, why aren't you dancing?"

The couple smiled up at her in greeting and made room for her at their table, scooting to the side and shifting some orphaned drinks out of the way. "We were earlier, but it's almost as much fun to watch the people dancing as to do the dancing, you know?" Ryan said with a smirk, coming as close to insubordination as he had ever done in her presence when he waggled his eyebrows at her.

"Oh God, you were watching me and Castle dance? That's a little creepy, Ryan." Beckett was shaking her head at him even as she began to realize what he meant. From the sidelines, the merrymaking took on a whole new hilarious air.

"Not creepy, Kate," Jenny laughed. "You guys look good out there. I heard a little while ago that you looked good under the mistletoe, but nothing since then."

Beckett's cheeks flamed at the reference to the mistletoe incident. Still a little embarrassing, even after several weeks. Then she leveled Ryan with a stare. "That was an ambush, Jenny. _Some people _in the precinct seemed to think we needed a little push in the right direction."

Jenny laughed with her, but Ryan gulped visibly, pulling at his collar. "Jenny, do you need another drink? It's hot in here. I'll get a drink. For you. And me, I mean. A drink for both of us. Not just one. Two. Two drinks for us." He stumbled as he stood, barely able to keep his chair from toppling over backward, and then he hurried away.

Jenny rolled her eyes. "He didn't even head toward the bar!"

Beckett laughed. "He'll make it there eventually. I didn't mean to scare him off. It's just habit."

Jenny swiveled in her seat to face Beckett fully, leaning forward so she wouldn't have to yell over the increasingly loud noise of the crowd. "So, you and Castle?" Her eyebrows raised suggestively.

Beckett bit her lip and grinned, turning bright eyes out toward the crowd to try to spot the man in question, but the crowd was to thick to see through. So she turned back to Jenny and nodded. "Yeah, me and Castle," she said simply, then remembered something. "You had a little bit to do with that, though, didn't you?"

Jenny shrugged, but her face remained far too pleased and proud for true innocence, and Beckett narrowed her eyes at her. "You did! I thought so, you sent him over to my place on Thanksgiving night."

Giving up the game, Jenny nodded with a grin. But she sobered before she spoke, looking at Beckett with surprisingly earnest eyes. "He seemed sad that night, you know? Well not sad," she back pedaled at Beckett's look of dismay, "but it was just so clear that he wanted to be with you, and not us. So yeah," she shrugged again, "I told him that if he wanted to be with you he should go be with you."

The blonde looked a little nervous, averting her eyes once her statement was given, so Beckett took pity on her. "Thank you," she said, equally earnest. "I think that everything that's happened this month stems from him coming over that night." She smiled at Jenny, and then continued with a self-deprecating eye roll, "He got at me while my defenses were down, and he's been here ever since."

Jenny met her gaze again. "And you love it."

"Yeah, I do." Another admission, another blush staining her cheeks. When had she become this girl?

"Oh!" Jenny cried suddenly, "Look!" She hauled Beckett to her feet and they moved toward a crowd that was building, and Beckett's face lit up. Looked like Lanie was about to sing. Beckett swung around to look for Esposito, because surely this was at least partly for his benefit, and spotted him off to one side. Telling Jenny she'd find her again in a minute, she made her way over to Espo, who looked a little too serious for the occasion. Time to find out why.

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...

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Castle was leaning against the bar, watching the entertaining antics of the police force on the dance floor, waiting for his requested glasses of red wine. His gaze found Kate at the far side of the room, leaning into a conversation with Ryan and Jenny. Then she glared at Ryan-not her serious _you're in trouble_ glare, but just the kind she used to get a reaction-and said something that sent the man stumbling away. Castle grinned at the resulting laughter among the girls.

Beckett looked beautiful, and there was something particularly appealing about watching her from across the room. Her hair was a little messy from their dancing, and from the way his hands had crept into her hair while they snuck into an adjoining room to share a few discreet kisses. She was a little flush from the exercise and the eggnog and maybe, he thought when she leaned back and looked away across the crowd with a shy dip of her head, from something Jenny had said. He caught the sparkle of her new necklace as she twisted back to her companion, and the affection on her face when her fingers, perhaps unknowingly, lifted to touch the gift.

If he didn't know any better, he'd say she looked like a woman in love. The way she was smiling-

"Castle! Good to see you tonight," Captain Montgomery's voice reverberated through his consciousness and dragged it away from the beautiful woman across the room. Castle turned and greeted the man with a grin, shaking his hand firmly.

"Merry Christmas, Captain." Castle noticed that his order was up, but stopped short of picking up the glasses and gave the captain a sidelong glance.

"Speak your mind, Castle," Montgomery said knowingly, without looking away from the drink selection he was perusing.

"I was just thinking about Beckett," Castle began, only to be interrupted by the captain's explosive laughter.

"What else is new, Castle? Come on, man," Montgomery chuckled, and then pulled himself together. "I'm sorry, Castle. Go ahead."

A little affronted, Castle continued with more force. "She just works so hard. Don't you think she deserves a little holiday? Isn't there anyone else who could work Christmas for her?"

Montgomery's good humor fell away a little as he regarded Castle. The pause was long enough that Castle thought about asking again when the captain responded, "Castle, Beckett volunteered to work the holiday."

Castle felt a little of his good cheer seeping away from him, and Montgomery took pity. "She does it every year, Castle. Every year she's been a cop, she works the Christmas holiday. At first, it was to avoid the sadness at home, and then it was to keep busy, but somewhere along the way it became her own tradition. Her own way of giving back, and trying to help those that've gone through the same thing as her. To get justice, where so often there isn't any."

When Castle nodded, it was in a distracted way. He'd had no idea. Montgomery clapped him on the back. "Don't look so sad, Castle. She came to the party with you. Now, if you don't mind, my wife is waiting for her drink."

He left Castle standing at the bar, a little dazed, and a little sadder then when he'd walked over there. But Beckett was waiting for her drink to, and he should probably get it to her.

.

...

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Glancing behind him, Montgomery watched Castle stare at the makeshift bar top, the sadness palpable in his posture. With a sigh, he headed over to Evelyn and murmured in her ear that he'd be just one more minute as he handed her one of their drinks and kept the other, despite the logistics of maneuvering with it through the crowd. At his wife's expression, he picked up the pace, striding through the crowd toward Beckett, who was cutting a determined path across the crowd to some unknown destination.

As always when working with this particular detective, Montgomery felt a kind of sentient emptiness within him. Long-festering guilt and genuine affection often warred within him regarding Beckett, and it had risen to the surface of his consciousness while he tried to explain to Castle why her tradition was so important. Because, after all, her tragedy was forever entwined with his own, though he prayed every night that she would never know it. So he did what he could to mentor, to lighten, to help pave the way toward whatever happiness she might find, as if it made up for the ghosts of his past.

The ghosts of Christmas past, he supposed, for himself and for Beckett. He took a long swig from his holiday martini, _what the hell is this drink? _to buck himself up to his usual standards.

"Beckett!" he called, relieved when she turned toward his voice. Being the captain had some perks after all, he thought with a wry grin.

When her face lit up at seeing him, his guilt twisted in his gut again, but he returned the smile.

"Captain! Thank you so much, I can't even tell you," she exclaimed, then turned all around with the slightly unstable pivot of the lightly drunk. When she didn't see Castle, she turned back to him with a wry look. "All this effort and I'm shouting secrets at you over the crowd. But really, sir. Thank you. I figured it was a long shot when I asked, so-"

"You're more than welcome, Detective," he interrupted, not eager to listen to her thanks. If she ever discovered the truth, she might put a bullet in him, and maybe it'd be deserved. But even if she didn't take it that far, she'd regret anytime she'd offered him thanks, or welcomed him into her life. So tonight he couldn't listen to her profess any more appreciation.

"Beckett, another thing. I told Castle you asked for the Christmas shifts." Her fallen expression told him all he needed to know. "I'm sorry, Beckett. I didn't know it was a secret."

She sighed, and ran a hand through already tousled hair. "No, sir... it's my fault. I'll talk to him. Besides, how could I be mad at you after all you've done for me today?" She smiled openly again, a hand quickly gripping his elbow before dropping away, and he fought through the agony of deceit to smile back. Then he made a quick escape back to his wife, so that he wouldn't have to do it again. At least not for another day.

As his back was turned, he heard the sultry tones of Dr. Parrish begin to sing with a tune he thought he might recognize from pop radio.

"_I don't want a lot for Christmas, there is just one thing I need..."_

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...

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Castle stayed at the bar for Lanie's performance, watching with growing mirth as she shimmied and swiveled her way across the stage. She had a damn good voice, and between the outfit and the alcohol she was like a fallen elf's dream up there. About halfway through, it became clear that she was only singing in one particular direction, and it didn't take too much to find Esposito, grinning, red-faced, and eating it up. When she dropped into the crowd from the stage, still singing but now hidden from view, he turned back to the bar. The whoops and laughs of the crowd told him all he needed to know about what was happening.

He signaled the bartender that he'd need one more glass, he'd finished his already. By the time his wine was delivered, the performance was over, and he knew by now Kate would be looking for him. He'd been gone for a lot longer than was required to procure some alcohol. Tipsy now, he turned to scan the crowd and found his favorite detective wandering over toward the large Christmas tree in the corner of the room. He smiled softly, and followed.

As he approached, carefully juggling their glasses, he watched her reach out and touch a hesitant hand to an ornament. And then, inexplicably, the hand swiped across her face as if she were wiping away tears. But that was impossible, wasn't it? She'd been so happy tonight. So he picked up the pace, but the closer he got, the more clear it became. She was definitely crying.

He set their drinks down on the closest table and moved quietly over to her. "Hey," he murmured, touching his hand to the small of her back. She gave him a watery smile, not really turning around, but leaning toward him. Obligingly, he stepped closer so she was resting back against him.

"All I want for Christmas is you," he whispered, playfully.

She gave a choked laugh, her hands clutching at his around her waist. She took a deep breath, then replied shakily, "It just doesn't have the same effect if you don't wear the Santa dress, Castle."

He laughed lightly, nuzzling his nose behind her ear. "Want to tell me what's wrong?"

She let out a long breath and turned into him so they were standing almost side by side in front of the tree. She wasn't really crying anymore, maybe, Castle thought, it had just been a few errant tears. But he ran his thumb over the dampness of her cheek and then soothed over her jaw while she gathered her words.

"I forgot."

Castle was still for a minute, confused, waiting for the meaning to come to him. It didn't. "What did you forget?"

"It's because I've been so happy, you know. Well, of course you know," she repeated, the words pressed against his chest now, the two of them somewhat secluded in the corner. He felt her try to grin and fail to hold it, so he wrapped his other hand around her waist.

"I don't understand," he whispered, apologetic.

"I'm not being clear," she muttered, and stood back a little. She met his eye with a slight smile, _I'm mostly okay_, and then pointed to the ornament he'd seen her looking at before. A golden, miniature scales of justice. Oh.

"We had one just like this on the tree growing up. It was a gift from her parents, the Christmas after she graduated from law school. And I haven't... those decorations are all still in storage."

Not knowing what to say, or if there was anything he could say, Castle just rubbed his hand over her shoulders. All he could think to do was provide as much comfort as she would accept from him.

"I forgot to be sad," she said. "You have made this month so full of all of the good stuff that I forgot that I don't usually do this. Celebrate. And I just..." the words were stuttering out of her in fits and starts, her nose pressed into the hollow beneath his collarbone, "it made me remember. How sad I usually am."

Hesitantly, Castle tilted her chin up so he could meet her eye. "It's okay that you didn't remember to be sad, Kate. I'm sure it's what your mother would want."

Beckett lifted her lips faintly, and nodded. "I know you're right. That's not even... I don't know. I worry about-" She cut herself off and seemed to redirect her thoughts. "It caught me by surprise, so strong compared to all the good stuff." She gestured between the two of them and then waved a hand to include all of the celebration happening behind them, a little grin taking root.

"You know, all of this is great, but it's only part of what Christmas means to me."

Beckett raised dark, questioning eyes to his.

"It's this," he gestured to the room, "the celebration, the friends. It's you," he took a moment to brush his lips against hers, more of a suggestion than anything, "and it's family. But there's also another aspect I'm not sure I could put into words. But I see it out there, and it's magic."

"Out where?"

"Would you mind," he asked with his lips against her cheek, "if we left this party a little early?"

She hesitated, and then shook her head, turning to brush her nose against his; a barely there caress. "No, Castle. I don't mind."

He took her hand, and started leading her back to gather their things. "Come on Kate. Let's get out of here. I'll show you what I mean."

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A/N: Thanks for reading! Without a deadline, I've been editing and filling this out a bit, thus it's a little longer than it was originally going to be. Please let me know what you think! :)


	11. Chapter 11

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The air was warmer than expected as they left the hotel and the night-even the New York City night-dark after the bright lights of the lobby. The grey sky that had been looming over them for the better part of the month, though unseen beyond the glare of the city, seemed to have lifted, and taken the bitter cold with it. Castle guided a curious and expectant Beckett out into the night and told the doorman that they would need a cab. Unable to help herself, Beckett crowded into him, as though she might by simply standing closer to him or wrapping her hand around his arm get an indication of what he meant to show her. Castle merely smiled at her, his eyes bright with happy secrets. So she pressed her cheek against the rough wool of his coat at his shoulder and decided to simply wait him out.

Her attention was momentarily diverted from the man at her side when she caught sight of a couple walking past the hotel. They were tall and smartly dressed; he was handsome and she was beautiful and they were laughing with their heads together as they walked, the unknown source of their mirth described in the way they moved together and the ever-lifted curves of their cheeks. They were in love, were exuding it with a force that looked to be strong enough to be physically felt, even by a stranger. At least Beckett felt it, and found herself wondering if she and Castle looked ever looked like that to the strangers they passed on the street..

Probably not, she thought with a sigh. She was momentarily surprised that she could see her breath misting out in front of her, a big cloud that gave away her silent emoting. It drifted away quickly, though, perhaps before Castle would have had a chance to notice it, and Beckett rubbed her cheek against his shoulder again. There was still hope that they might one day give off that kind of joy every time they were seen on the street, and that the strength of Castle's good nature and his optimism might drown out the keening of her own recurring despair.

She didn't notice the cab had arrived until Castle was tugging on her sleeve. Blinking down at him in surprise where his face was peeking out of the back seat at her, she let him help her down into the cab next to him. She had apparently missed him telling the cabbie their destination, and she scooted closer to him on the seat with the intention of finding out. She pressed her thigh against his and slid her fingers between his and rested her chin on his shoulder.

"You going to tell me where we're headed?" she asked softly, the words just a warm gust of breath over his ear, more felt than heard.

"Nope." He grinned and turned into her to take the opportunity to wrap her up in his arms and press his lips against her cheek. She came willingly, for his benefit letting out a tiny sound of annoyance at his denial, and turned to catch his lips with hers. They kissed sweetly, the better moods of the evening still caught around them, and Beckett decided that at this very moment she didn't care where they were headed, but just that they were here together. Castle could feel even now the heaviness in her that had set in so quickly was slipping away. Not gone, no, but lessened by his interruption of her melancholy and by the happiness that had been swirling around them today. The weight was lighter.

A good day, he decided. Not perfect, but so very close, so much better than he would have hoped for if he were anyone but himself. He, of course, being prone to hoping for everything he could think of. Including everything he could think of sharing with the woman beside him. Playfully, he fingered the red ribbon she was still wearing around her waist. He nibbled lightly on her lower lip and gave the fabric a tiny pull. Lowering his voice, nearly whispering, he asked, "So _is _this my Christmas present?"

Beckett shifted a little closer, but her teasing response was left to go unspoken when she recognized the landmark outside of the cab. "Are we going to Carnegie Hall?" She asked in confusion, leaning over him to look out at the ornate building. Lights glowed warmly beneath ornately wrought arches and the Carnegie flags flapped casually above the wintry crowds and the orphaned bicycles locked up outside and left to rust.

Castle didn't have to answer when the cab moved on, taking a left, and then a right. Beckett, in full detective mode now and with her bearings about her, glanced out the other window at the passing streets.

"Times Square?" she asked with an unimpressed arch of an eyebrow. Castle laughed at her expression and shook his head, pulling her back against him even as she continued to watch the lights pass by outside.

"Not that far. Just wait a second, Detective. Not everything needs detecting."

Beckett muttered under her breath, smiling now. Whatever he had planned, she was enjoying it already, and that was enough. This was enough, him and her and a secret. So she settled a little deeper into his arms, and let the night take them where it would.

It was only a few minutes before the cab was pulling over. Castle looked over at Beckett with barely restrained glee, his fingers gripping her knee in a squeeze that was more excitement than seduction, and she pursed her lips at his childlike affect. He held up a hand for her to wait, got out of the car and ran around so he could open her door for her. And despite the way they'd been holding hands and touching and kissing of late, she was still pleasantly surprised by the warmth of his fingers around hers while he handed her out of the cab.

When she stood up, she wasn't looking at anything special, but Castle used his grip on her hand to turn her in a little circle until she gasped, then smiled up at him with something like wonder.

"I haven't been here in... forever," she murmured with a smile.

It was Rockefeller Center. Just a short walk away from them was the skating rink, and Beckett had a fleeting but strong concern that Castle intended them to go skating. She hadn't been skating in such a very long time and her emotions were on a strange and tremulous thread that left the idea of doing so tonight an utterly overwhelming idea. She wouldn't have been able to express the sensation if she had been asked, but Castle seemed to understand, squeezing her hand and giving a tiny shake of his head.

"No skating. Not tonight, anyway," he corrected with a gleam in his eye, and let her hand go so that he could wrap his arm around her waist and bring her close beside him. "Walk with me, Kate?"

She needn't answer, and soon he was guiding them down toward whatever it was that he had planned. As they approached the rink, the fiery statue of Prometheus gleamed golden in the background and behind it the mighty rise of the Rockefeller Christmas tree. At some ten stories high the tree was the great guardian of the scene, and Beckett felt herself feeling uneasy at the express command of it's presence. _Here is Christmas. Celebrate! Be merry_!

Beckett tore her eyes away from the tree to find Castle watching her, unreadable. She bit her lip and shook her head at him with a little shrug. Someday soon, she could try to describe what she was thinking in this moment, but the words weren't in her yet. It seemed enough for him that she acknowledged the moment, and he let it go with a sigh. Tightening her fingers around his, Beckett made a forcible effort to be in this moment. Not the one that her years of hiding from the holiday wanted to create, but the one that Castle was trying to offer to her.

"So what was it that you wanted to show me, Castle?"

Castle looked down at her with quiet eyes. He wasn't sure what had just happened, but he knew that she was uncomfortable. It occurred to him to leave. To guide her out of there as quickly as they had come. Perhaps return to the party, or maybe take her to the loft, or a bar, or drop her off home. That maybe, just maybe this wasn't the time to try to explain to her how deeply he felt about Christmas or the hope it manifested inside of him.

But she was still beside him, watching him, trusting him to bring them out of this in one piece, so he took a deep breath and collected the scattered limbs of his thoughts.

"Look at all of these people," he began slowly, his eyes skipping over the crowds moving jerkily over the ice, or gathered ringside to watch, or walking across the way toward the tree. "Look how happy they are. I mean," he reiterated, his eyes suddenly piercing into hers, "really look. Do you see how happy they are?"

A little thrown by the intensity of his words, Beckett looked as he told her to do. There were laughing couples, and families, and kids playing. They were, every one, smiling or laughing or generally joining in the merriment. She nodded, returning his gaze with an expression that she could only hope conveyed her sincerity. "I do," she nodded again. "But, what..." she trailed off, having lost the threads of his thought.

"People aren't usually like this," he continued, apparently satisfied by her answer. "There isn't another time of year when people spend so much time with family, or friends, doing something other than working and running the race." Castle slipped his arms around her waist and drew Beckett back to him so they were both looking out on the scene together. He took the time to press a lingering kiss to her temple before continuing, murmuring into her ear as they watched the skaters and the revelers.

"All of these people, they're happy because they are taking the time to live, now. They are in their Christmas present," Castle was grinning a little at his own pun; she could feel the change in his lips at her ear. "They aren't worried about tomorrow, or what happened last week or last month. And if they do, it's with hope of better things. They're just in this moment. They feel what I feel. It's a kind of magic out here, and it doesn't just happen at Rockefeller Center, but it does only happens at Christmas time."

Beckett twisted in his arms so she could stay leaning back against him while still catching a glimpse of his face. That same fierce seriousness was there, but also the joy and the mirth he was describing. Smiling at the contradiction, she pressed the palm of her hand against the barest scratch of stubble on his cheek, unable to prevent the smile from forming on her lips.

"You take happiness very seriously," she teased, but his eyes flicked back down to her with a sharpness she wasn't expecting.

His arms tightened around her waist, and he seemed to hesitate before diving in to his response. "I didn't always. I was always happy, I always felt these things at this time of year, especially after Alexis was born. But knowing you, knowing what happened to you and all you've had to go through... That makes me appreciate it even more. There's something to be said for seeing the alternative."

Beckett felt a stunned retort form and melt off of her tongue before she had a chance to voice it. It was too much, but also perfect. So instead, she chose to grin at him, the quick flash of her teeth a startling contrast to the somber conversation thus far. "And you've shown me the alternative, Castle."

Castle's eyes crinkled almost completely shut at that, his cheeks lifting into a closed-mouth smile that he scraped against her cheek, holding her close in a moment of perfect understanding. "Good," he said simply.

Beckett disentangled herself from him and linked their hands. "Let's walk, Castle."

They wound their way around the rink and up by the tree, somehow not so intimidating now. As Beckett let herself laugh at something Castle said, her face turned into his chest to help muffle the sound, she could see how now, maybe, they would be the kind of couple a stranger might think was in love. At that thought, her laughter died away and she kept her smile pressed against him, her cheeks suddenly hot with surprise. But she found the courage to pull back and meet his eye as they walked, knowing that he could see the depth of her emotion in her face.

"I worry about us, Castle," she said suddenly, the declaration popping out of her mouth and surprising them both.

Castle looked down at her with a question in his eyes and in the furrow of his brow, but he didn't speak, for which she was grateful.

"I mean, I worry about you." His eyes widened, and she shook her head. "I'm not very good at this," she muttered, swinging their hands and admiring the way they sidestepped a few errant children in unison. Always so in sync.

"No one is," Castle replied, sympathetic understanding on his face, even as she could see that he was making an effort not to pester her. _What do you mean? What do you mean?_

"You have so much joy in you, Castle. And lately you've been helping me to experience that. But what if some day, instead, you have to feel some of what I usually... some of my... well." She came to an abrupt halt, both verbally and physically, so that the crowds around the couple had to part and alter course to avoid crashing into them.

But Castle, he smiled. His head tilted and he nodded at her as understanding finally dawned. She thought that she could ruin his Christmas spirit. Linking their arms again, he started them walking, with a new destination in mind. "Even if I feel some of that, Kate, it'll be something we share and fight together. It could never actually overwhelm the magic I usually feel here." He swung a hand out to gesture around them, though she knew he didn't mean just _here_, at the skating rink.

"Besides," he said with a returning bravado, "what have I told you about living in the moment. Don't you worry about the ghosts of our Christmas futures. Or rather, the ghosts of our Christmas future. Singular. Because, Kate," he was striding along at a good clip now, only reigned in by the limitations of the heels she was wearing, "there is only one future for us, together. Not two futures, separately."

She grinned at the simple, factual way he said it. No doubt, ever. Just them, in the future, having Christmas together. Having a life together, full of all sorts of things. "Where are we going now?" she asked as they began to leave the Christmas tree, and with it much of the crowd, behind them.

"One more thing to show you," he said. "An old favorite spot of mine, at any time of year."

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A/N: Thanks for reading! I GREATLY appreciate every review, fav, follow on this story. Thank you! Pretty sleepy while doing the final read-through on this, so just ignore any mistakes, _por favor_? Or point and laugh, whatever suits you. :)


	12. Chapter 12

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"Wait."

Beckett's voice came from just behind him in the same moment she tugged lightly on his hand. Castle turned see why she had stopped and found her just looking at him steadily. He looked around as if he might find the reason for the delay amongst the crowd or just out of arm's length in the semi-darkness.

"What's wrong?" Not the right question, exactly, because despite the sometimes serious nature of their banter this evening Beckett still looked deeply pleased. As if they could discuss all of the problems in the world without them ruining her serenity tonight.

Beckett tugged him to the side of the sidewalk so they were out of the way and took both of his hands in hers. Castle smiled down at her, couldn't help himself, really. She was trying so hard to be present, but he could see the wheels turning. Her eyes met his.

"Tell me you heard me, back there."

"Of course I heard you, Kate. I always do."

Her lips quirked upward at the corner, and she shook her head so that her bangs fluttered around her eyes. When she spoke, she was squeezing his hands in rhythm with her voice. "But you dismiss it?"

"The part where you think you could possibly ruin my spirit?" At her rather embarrassed nod, he leaned forward and kissed her cheek. It was a lingering thing that was more of a warm embrace than a kiss, and he nuzzled his nose into the soft skin there. He pulled away to look at her again but let his torso stretch forward so they were still touching. He chose his words carefully. "I understand your concern, but I really think you don't have anything to be worried about. You can't hurt me."

Beckett only raised her eyebrows at him in disagreement, so he shrugged. "Not that way, at least. You could never bring me down. You could never... dampen my spirit."

Castle watched the argument play across her face, and then he felt the release of the tension of her hands in his as her face cleared. "Okay," she said slowly, that little smile that he loved so much flirting with her lips again. "Promise you'll tell me if that changes?"

Castle grinned and lifted one hand to brush some of her hair away from her face. "I promise." Since his hand was already in her hair, it was easy to curl his fingers around her neck and pull her just a little closer so he could kiss her. Taking his time and disregarding the fact that they were out in full view of a potentially curious public, he slanted his mouth over hers and slid his tongue over the crease of her lips. Her lips parted as she made a small sound of surprise, and then her fingers were curling over his wrist to hold him close as his tongue caressed hers. Her fingers held him still to stretch the moment out, to make it last. To hold him to it.

When they parted with a soft pop that made him chuckle, Beckett looked a little dazed. So she followed willingly when he began walking again. Castle could see the statue of Atlas off to his left, across from Saint Patrick's Cathedral, the statue interminably holding the weight of the world on his shoulders, and Castle wondered briefly if that was how Beckett felt. Why she felt the need to ask if she was weighing him down. The thought made him wrap his arm more tightly around her waist and lean over to kiss the top of her head as they walked.

She couldn't bring him down. But hopefully he could lighten the load that she carried. And all without indicating that he thought she couldn't do it alone.

Because she could, of course. She just shouldn't have to.

"Hey, do you smell coffee?"

Her voice shook him out of his thoughts, and it took a second to figure out what she was asking. Then he looked around quickly and spotted the coffee cart half a block down.

"Are you so bored you need a pick-me-up to feign interest?" he asked with mock distress, for which he earned himself the full glory of the Beckett eye roll.

"Just buy me a coffee, will you?"

He grinned, and did as he was told, stealing another kiss as they waited for their order. She hummed at that, loose in his arms, melting in to him until the cart attendant cleared his throat in annoyance.

"Thanks," he offered as he scooped up their drinks, unapologetic, while Kate simply sent the man a dazzling smile that undermined some of his ire.

With coffee in one hand and Kate's hand in the other, Castle led them off again. He let their path meander, pleased to find that she didn't seem to mind that his pace had slowed or that he kept leaning over to press his lips against her temple or her cheek. Using their joined hands to tilt her chin up, he kissed her lips again. It was sloppy and ungainly, and they were laughing as they careened together across the walkway.

"Wow, Castle, smooth moves."

But she was still smiling, looking up at him with joyful eyes, and pressed her shoulder against his without bouncing away. He continued to distract her with kisses and touches as they walked. They were mostly quiet, though he would occasionally point out a landmark or something that struck him as interesting or beautiful or funny.

Soon enough, he could sense that she was beginning to realize what he was doing, despite his best distraction tactics. Her head was swiveling on her shoulders with a little more purpose as she looked around. She was growing antsy, letting go of his hand and hooking her elbow with his so that her fingers were free to play with his coat sleeve, and her own, and to peel at the cardboard sleeve of her coffee. Eventually she asked, though he could tell it cost her a little bit to have to do it.

"Where are we going?"

When he only shrugged and turned his lips down in a nonchalant manner, _not sure_, she lifted an eyebrow.

"Are we going back to where we started? Is that the big reveal?"

Castle grinned. "Do you really want to know in advance, Beckett? Don't you like surprises?"

"Only sometimes," she replied with a grunt, but her smile remained good-natured.

"Well," he relented, "we are headed back in the general direction from whence we came."

"Whence?" she muttered, but she continued to allow herself to be led, and didn't ask any further questions.

Castle was a little nervous. There was a chance he'd let the anticipation for this reveal, as she called it, outgrow the thing itself. He was taking her somewhere that was nostalgically important for him but held little significance in the grand scheme of things. He hoped she would understand, but there was a chance that she would only be left bewildered by his choice of destination.

They were back in front of the Rockefeller building, in sight of the skating rink and Prometheus and the Christmas tree once again. Kate was quiet beside him for reasons he couldn't guess, but she was still warm, receptive, and smiling, so he forced himself not to over-think it. Of all of the important things in his life, she was the one that made him second-guess himself more than anything, and he fought against the urge now.

Finally, hesitantly, he led her over to his destination. It was the large bronze plaque engraved with the words of Rockefeller himself, and Castle felt so drawn to it that he let go of Kate's arm for a moment so he could smooth a hand almost affectionately over the cold surface.

"I, uh," he cleared his throat. How to explain? "I used to come here, when I was a college student. You know, I don't know if I ever told you this but I'd wanted to be a writer for almost as long as I could imagine. But at first, it was more about manipulating the story and finding the right words, as if whatever I wrote was just a puzzle waiting to be solved."

He looked up from the familiar engraving when Beckett stepped closer to him, bridging a gap he had unwittingly created when he let go of her. Her face was still a mystery, but she was smiling gently in acceptance of his words. She took a sip of her coffee, her gaze never leaving his, and then quietly lifted his hand from the plaque to hold it in her own.

"And then?" she asked, lifting their joined hands to brush a kiss over his knuckles. When had this become about him?

Castle gestured with his coffee cup, since his other hand was occupied. "I was wandering the city one day, I guess I was about nineteen and just killing time, and I happened upon this. And the words are so articulate, so meaningful, and they made me really feel something. It was the first time I thought that words could truly create emotion, and the first time I understood why the word was _creative_."

Beckett's smile widened at that, and she squeezed his hand once.

"And I would stand here and read what he said, and look at the huge buildings and this center, all in his name, and it made me feel the power of the language." Castle shrugged, self conscious. "They became important to me, and I know them all by heart. Tonight, I remembered that one of them makes me think of you."

The whole plaque was filled with quotes, but to his surprise, Beckett didn't turn to read them and try to find the one he spoke of. Her eyes were dark and focused completely on him as he rambled about and around his untidy explanation.

"I know them, too."

Castle could feel his lips part in disbelief, his fingers wiggling in her grasp. It was the last thing he had expected her to say, so he kissed her for it, the hard press of his lips against hers in a kind of thanks and expression of his surprise.

"You do?"

"This is where I was when I decided to become a cop. I was nineteen, too," she said, her smile lessening without darkening. She stepped forward to gesture toward the inscription, one finger lifting from the coffee cup to point, but he didn't need to look. He already knew what was written there, and suddenly had a sense of what it must mean to her.

"I believe," she read, "that truth and justice are fundamental to an enduring social order."

He watched as her fingertip underlined the word justice before she withdrew her hand and looked back to him. Her face suddenly broke free with a bright and shy smile, and she continued, "But that's not the first time that I knew words had the power to create. After mom died, and before I ever thought about law enforcement, there was a period of time when I found some solace in words and books. I learned that words could create a safe haven away from reality."

Her eyes flickered away in something like reluctance before she nodded to herself and shrugged her shoulders. She stepped closer, wrapping her arms around his waist and nudging her nose at the edge of his jaw. When she spoke, he could feel her lips moving against the stubble at his throat.

"Your books, actually. Your words"

She never ceased to amaze him, and this was a revelation that he was sure he would tease her about later. Tonight, though, he felt only a strong sense of kismet flitting around them. Standing here, where they had both stood and decided the future course of their lives at the rocky age of their respective nineteens. Standing here again, looking at a future that would see them forever together.

"Which one reminds you of me?"

He grinned at that, though she couldn't see it from where she was tucked so closely into him. Closing his eyes, he lowered his head to rest his cheek in her hair. He recited the words from memory, "I believe in the supreme worth of an individual and in his right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness."

Her arms tightened around him, forcing their middles tightly together. When she leaned back to ask the question with her eyes, bright green in the night, he explained, "I believe in your supreme worth, Kate. And that whatever weight you carry, you still deserve happiness."

She was pulling him down to her then, kissing him fiercely and knotting her hands in the short hair at the back of his head. In his periphery, or maybe it was just a sense of change in the air pressure, he noticed as it began to snow. The grim sky that had been looming over them for so long finally opened up and instead of raining misery down upon them, it sent them down a peace offering. The fat snowflakes swirled lazily about them as they embraced, and Castle could feel them melting on his face and his ears and weighing down the ends of his eyebrows.

He slid his lips over hers, reveling in the openness of her kiss and the warmth of her so close, and the warmth of her mouth opening beneath his. Reluctantly, he pulled back until he could look at her face again, his fingers sweeping over her cheeks and collecting the serendipitous snowflakes, a far cry from the tears he had collected before.

"You're beautiful."

"You're wonderful," she countered, gifting him a barely-there kiss and a smile. "This is like a fairy tale."

She blushed as she said it, shy and silly and hopeful, and Castle found himself wondering just how much of a romantic there was buried down beneath the tough exterior. Taking a chance, with one arm still wrapped tightly around her, he used his free hand to brush his fingers over one more quote.

_I believe that love is the greatest thing in the world; that it alone can overcome hate; that right can and will triumph over might._

He couldn't bring himself to say the words. They were too telling, and even if she understood-and the brightness of her eyes indicated that she did-it was too early. They had jumped in headfirst, but that didn't mean he had to continue careening through their relationship until they drowned. So he brought his hand back to cup her face and heaved a little laugh, his breath steaming out into the air to mingle with hers. Laughing at himself, and the snow, and the reality of her in his arms.

The warm press of her smile against his lips and the length of her body against his made him want things he didn't think he could have, until she sucked lightly on his bottom lip before reaching up to whisper life into his fantasy with her lips brushing heatedly over the shell of his ear.

"Take me home, Castle."

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**A/N**: Thanks for reading! The quotes are, to the best of my knowledge, the actual quotes from Rockefeller center. I've never been, I hope I did it justice. :)


	13. Chapter 13

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Beckett woke naked, splayed out on her back and surrounded by the crisp scent of snow and the mingling scents of her perfume and Castle's cologne. The combination made her smile and peek out of the corner of one eye. Only Castle's face was visible, mashed into the pillow they were sharing, the rest of his body buried beneath the blankets. Closing her eyes again, Beckett wriggled a little deeper under her comforter and became aware of the weight of Castle's leg draped over her thighs and his palm resting at her hip.

She flushed and moved her legs a little just to feel the friction before settling in again. Biting her lip, she looked for any signs of wakefulness in her partner's face, but he was still entirely asleep. She, however, was wide awake. Her eyes were bright, her body sated and sore in the best possible way, her mind free of regret or worry. All of that due to him, she thought, and shifted so that she could run the fingers of one hand through his hair. An affectionate gesture that grounded her and also released the scent of snow in a fresh wave.

Grinning, Beckett wiggled her fingers to do it again, and was rewarded with even more of the slightly metallic, wintry smell. They had brought the snow in with them the previous night, coating their jackets and hair, lining their eyebrows and caught in their eyelashes. The ride home from Rockefeller Center had been spent in a borderline indecent fashion, with tongues touching and hands creeping places and voices producing groans that were only half-muffled.

They'd taken a cab because it was faster than calling for the town car again, and the cabby kicked them out with a curse two blocks from her place. The snow had been falling in earnest at that point, surrounding them with curtains of magic and providing an other-worldly landscape. Beckett wasn't used to thinking of New York as pretty, not anymore. She might be changing her mind about that, though.

By the time they'd made it inside, they were shedding clothes and kissing and touching in a frenzy, and neither one of them took the time to brush the snow away before they'd made it to the bed. Once there, things had slowed, the emotion between them apparent in the way Castle brushed the snow away from her, the slow drag of his hands down her cheek and throat and chest and hip. Beckett had laughed, then, his fingers still cold with snow, but their eyes met in a kind of agreement. Everything between them was inevitable.

The memory was warming her, both emotionally and... otherwise. Beckett dropped a kiss to Castle's shoulder, her lips parted enough to let her taste him briefly; she felt a need to act on her emotions but didn't really want to wake him. She rested her cheek there for a moment, then slid out of bed to use the restroom and brush her teeth. He was still asleep when she came back out, so she slid on a his dress shirt and buttoned a single button just above her navel, and headed to the kitchen to make them some coffee. It was already mid-morning, and she didn't want to waste too much of their first real day together waiting for him to awaken.

Ten minutes later and armed with two coffees, she drifted back into the bedroom. Castle had moved at least, she thought with an affectionate roll of her eyes. He was stretched out now, his toes peeking out from under the comforter and his arms flung out to either side, leaving the broad width of his chest exposed. Beckett set one coffee down on the nightstand and sat on the edge of the bed, her free hand coming to rest in the center of his warm chest. The slight weight of her body sinking into the mattress had him rolling toward her, and then his eyes drifted open.

She watched with amusement at his initial surprise, and then the dawning realization of where he was, and why. Then he grinned, showing his teeth in a way he usually avoided, his eyes crinkling dramatically and his hands coming to meet hers at his chest. He interlocked her fingers with his, and curled his other hand around her wrist.

"Hi," he murmured with a voice deep and rough from sleep.

"Hey. I brought you coffee."

"Thanks."

They stared at each other, smiling, for long enough to just brush the edges of awkward before he sat up and accepted the cup. He took a sip, and she reached for her own cup and mirrored him, suddenly at a loss for words. Beckett bit her lip and shrugged when their eyes met again, and Castle laughed suddenly.

"What's going on here?" he chuckled. "You're my favorite person to talk to." He leaned over and kissed her slowly, a greeting and a reminder, then he shifted over and back on the bed, moving carefully to keep his coffee from spilling, until he was leaning back against the head board. He patted the space he had created next to him, indicating that she should join him. She did, slipping under the covers as she went.

"You got dressed," Castle noted with feigned disappointment, two fingers flicking the clean white fabric covering her shoulder.

"Only barely," she countered. When the comment caused his eyes to drift down to her mostly exposed chest, she flushed, and she could tell that he noticed. "Castle, last night was amazing."

His eyes rose quickly to meet hers, sincere and intense. "You were amazing."

Beckett couldn't help the low laugh that bubbled out of her. She bumped his shoulder with her own, and brushed a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth. "I didn't just mean..." she rested the flush of her cheek against his shoulder and gestured to the wreck of blankets and pillows scattered about the bed.

Castle grin was absolutely dirty, one eyebrow raising as he looked where she pointed. "Well, neither did I, but I like the way you think. Because that really was amazing."

Beckett turned her head and bit the rounded part of his shoulder in a silent reprimand, just hard enough to leave a mark, and he jumped and had to work to keep from spilling his coffee. Then she kissed the spot and relented. "It was."

Castle's grin was softened by the warmth in his voice when he hummed in agreement, the rumbly noise vibrating through both of them. Then Beckett sat back and turned to face him more fully.

"It was, but I meant before that, too. The party, Rockefeller, the things you showed me. The things you've _been _showing me."

There was a beat of silence as she dropped her head to hide her gaze, the unruly mess of her hair falling forward in a heap to cover her face. Castle grinned at the picture in spite of her down turned gaze, and couldn't help tucking her hair behind her ear like he'd always wanted, but had never been allowed to. When his fingers grazed her cheek and slid under her chin, she looked back up at him.

"You've been changing my mind about some things. Forcing Christmas on me seems to be working."

She said it with a little laugh, but Castle could hear a more serious truth in her levity. He shook his head.

"Kate, I wasn't trying to _force _anything, I just wanted you to see-"

She interrupted him by placing two fingers over his mouth, and then running her thumb over his lower lip.

"I know." She smiled. "But you had to push it past my... history of not listening. It's okay, Castle. It worked. Or, it's working. You helped me."

With those words she scooted closer and hooked an arm around his neck, nuzzling her nose into his cheek. She tried to kiss her gratefulness into his stubbly skin.

Castle hummed, either in agreement or pleasure, and tugged her even closer. "Imagine the two of us, each young and looking for direction, standing at Rockefeller Center and deciding to become the people that we had to become in order to meet each other? And then, uh, consummating the fates there years later?"

Beckett chuckled softly, her teeth finding his earlobe at the word 'consummating'. They spoke at the same time.

"Fate."

"Kismet."

Castle shuddered when her hand crept beneath the sheet still covering him. "Magic," he gasped, countering her move with a hand high up on the inside of her thigh. She was smiling, he could feel the curve of her lips at his jaw, and dragged his hand through her hair.

"Mmm, magic," she agreed, shifting, her breath coming a little faster.

"Tell me again why you got dressed?" Castle muttered against her throat while his fingers traced the skin of her chest inside the boarders of his shirt. Her shirt. She could keep it.

"Can't remember," she gasped when his teeth sank into her skin, her fingers flexing over his shoulders. "Bad choice."

"Let me help you fix it."

He flicked open the only button holding the shirt closed, and slid his hands over her abdomen and around to her back to brace her as he laid her down.

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They spent the rest of Sunday in bed, breaking only for water during the day and then a late supper when they could no longer ignore their hunger. After the initial awkwardness, they fell into a rhythm, and not just literally. They laughed and played and whispered stories until the day was spent. They fell asleep sated, exhausted, happy, and thoroughly entangled with each other.

Montgomery called early on Monday to give Beckett the day off. Ordered her, really. Though, Castle thought, it must not have been easy to convince her if their long conversation was any evidence. While he'd been rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Beckett had paced the living room speaking softly into her phone. _Yes sir _and _no sir _and _thank you sir _and _you're sure it's ok, sir? _Finally, she had slipped flipped off the living room light and padded back through the dark apartment to slip into bed beside him.

"Got the day off," she murmured as she slid closer to slide one leg between his and bury her nose at his collar bone.

Castle grinned sleepily, rubbing his large hands down the lithe length of her naked back.

"How ever will we spend the time?"

"Sleep first," she murmured in response, the easy looseness of her limbs and the heaviness of her head on his chest letting him know she was already halfway there.

Later, after the sun had risen, she woke him with a leg thrown over his hip and her lips at his jaw and a haze of arousal in her eyes.

"Want to go slow." The words were a husky whisper that filled him with a rush of heat and had him clutching desperately at her hips.

"Anything you want."

So they consummated their fate once again.

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They spent the afternoon out, first at lunch where they sat on the same side of the booth and spent the whole time knocking elbows and stealing french fries and laughing, and then later walking miles and miles of the city streets. They strolled through Times Square, where the prominent _Wicked _billboard led a surprised Castle to learn that Beckett had somehow hidden from him a love of musical theater. He made a mental note to take her to a show in the near future.

She laughed and pushed him away when he whispered that they could make out at the top of the Empire State building, "So cliché, Castle," and instead took his hand to lead him in another direction.

"Didn't you say you wanted to get Alexis something grown up for Christmas?" she asked.

He nodded, though it was only perfunctory. Beckett was clearly leading them somewhere specific at this point.

"Did you have something in mind?" he asked with a grin as she tugged at his hand.

Beckett huffed with annoyance when he resisted and pulled her back to him to walk more casually, his arm around her waist. Then she looked up at him, suddenly shy. "Actually, the last time she was at the precinct I saw her looking at a Michael Kors bag on her phone. She, ah," Beckett was rushing, not looking at him, gesturing with her hands, "she was waiting for you and I just happened to see over her shoulder. I wasn't trying to pry."

Castle wrinkled his brow and tugged her closer. "I never would have suspected you were," he said. "But if you ever need to spy on my kid, you have my permission. I already have a phone tracker app installed."

"Castle! That's a total breach of privacy!"

"A dad's got to do what a dad's got to do," he argued, ignoring her affronted look. "A nice handbag would be a perfect gift."

Beckett blushed, uncomfortable again. "I mean, I'm sure you could get her something high tech, or more, I don't know... I just thought she might like something like that."

Castle finally understood. She was thinking of his daughter, thinking of something nice she might like, and it felt so intimate. It was so much like family, and maybe it was too soon. Not really too soon for them, for the Castle and the Beckett that the fates had orchestrated, but maybe too soon to acknowledge outright. Castle tried to hide the strength of the emotion that filled him, tried to keep his happiness from overwhelming her.

He cleared his throat. "It sounds perfect. Where are you taking me, Detective?"

She looked up in surprise. "I thought it was obvious. We're going to Saks."

They walked the rest of the way in relative silence, but it wasn't uncomfortable. When their way took them past Rockefeller Center they shared a knowing look, and then a lingering kiss, before Castle held the door at Saks for a still flushed Beckett to enter.

It didn't take long to find what they were looking for. And despite Beckett's nervousness, it was perfect. She was sure they had what Alexis had been looking at, and Castle thought it seemed right, also. It was exactly the kind of thing he'd been hoping to find, and he told her so.

"And, I'll tell her this is from you, too," he declared.

Beckett's eyes went wide. "No."

"No?"

"No... Not yet. Too soon." Barely sentences, but he understood. He disagreed, but he let it go.

The sun was hanging low in the sky at this point, so when Beckett suggested a stroll through Central Park, he knew it would be the last thing they did outdoors on this day. It was another cliché, but not too much so. Castle could feel the easiness of their romance settling into them as they walked through the park, each with an arm wrapped around the other's waist and Beckett with her cheek at his shoulder again. He was learning quickly that she liked to rest there, and he couldn't think of a thing that bothered him less.

"Are you coming to the precinct tomorrow?" Beckett asked as they wound their way toward one of the street side exits.

"Well, Alexis was the only one I still needed to shop for, and we've got that covered now. So yeah. Precinct or bust."

Beckett was watching him as he tried to catch a cab. "So, um..."

As their cab pulled up to the curb he looked back to find her biting her lip and smiling girlishly at him. "What?"

"Are you spending the night at my place, or do you need to go home? I mean, you'll need clothes and stuff."

Castle helped her into the cab while he considered his options. She was right. Though they hadn't left her apartment yesterday, he was still wearing his suit from the party, and two days was his limit. He pursed his lips and gave the cabbie her address.

"I guess I do need to go home," he finally said. "See the redheads. Use my own toothbrush."

Beckett nodded and grinned ruefully at him. Then, with a burst of inspiration, he reconsidered. "Or we could stop by your place so you could pick up some things and then spend the night at my place."

It was perfect. He could just picture having her in his bed, and making her breakfast, and leaving for work together. He liked it. He had liked it when she was staying at his place the previous year when her apartment had been blown up. He liked that one day that might be their _every _day. But Beckett was shaking her head, speaking softly.

"Castle, have you even told your family that we're together?"

"They knew what was happening. I mean, I didn't call them Saturday night after you fell asleep to make sure they were up to date on our under-the-covers antics, but-"

"Okay, okay!" Beckett stopped him with a laugh. She twisted her lips and considered him with a sidelong glance. Finally, with a long sigh, she said simply, "I don't think I'm ready for that."

It hurt, even though he knew it shouldn't. She was only being honest. So he gritted his teeth against the whine that was there on the tip of his tongue and nodded. "Okay. I guess we can spend one night apart," he grinned, even though it was a little rough around the edges.

"I'm sorry," Beckett murmured, her lips drawn back in something like regret. Castle hated to see it, and it helped to clear his head.

"No, don't be. Today, this weekend, all of it was great. We can take a night off, and maybe start working on letting everyone know that we're official tomorrow. So it won't be awkward."

Beckett smiled at him, grateful and relieved, her fingers finding his to give him a squeeze. "Thank you."

At her place, Castle hopped out of the cab and rushed around to open the door for her. Once she was standing, he gathered her into a tight embrace and kissed her deeply, dragging his lips over hers and dipping his tongue into her mouth with a tenderness that had her gripping tightly at his arms and canting her hips subtly into his.

They kissed until the cabbie honked, and parted with flushed cheeks and pounding hearts. They stood still for a second, and then laughed in unison, still giddy and surprised by the state of their relationship. Despite the cabbie's annoyance, Castle kissed her once more, and cradled her cheek in his hand as he drew away.

"Until tomorrow, Kate. I'll be thinking about you."

She beamed at him, and leaned her head into his hand. "Yeah. I'll be thinking about you, too."

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**A/N**: Finally, finally this thing is winding down, LOL. Thank you for reading!


	14. Chapter 14

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Beckett's smile and the lingering warmth from their embrace faded in unison as she walked down the hall to her apartment. She missed him already, and for what? An anomalous fear that manifested mostly in the form of a mild anxiety of presenting herself to his daughter.

Silly.

Juvenile.

Beckett bit her lip and fished her phone out of her bag as she shouldered her way through her door. It took four rings but just as she was getting ready to end the call, it was answered.

"Lanie," she sighed, letting out a big breath of relief.

"Kate! You've been MIA since you and Castle snuck out of the Christmas party. _Please _tell me you've been holed up with that writer of yours."

Beckett's chuckle was as much of an admission as her friend needed, which led Lanie to let out a squeal that was loud enough that Beckett had to hold the phone away from her ear, wincing. While Lanie celebrated, Beckett made her way through her apartment, dropping her bag on an end table and shrugging out of her coat. Then she heard Lanie's voice, muffled as if she had a hand over the receiver.

"She _was _with Castle!"

"Hey, what? Lanie who are you talking to?"

There was no direct response, Lanie had clearly forgotten how to uphold her side of a conversation, and then Beckett heard the low baritone of a man's voice.

"Lanie! Are you with Esposito?" No response. "Lanie!"

"What?" Finally Lanie came back.

"All that squeaking about me and Castle and you've got Esposito at your place?"

Lanie laughed. "Actually, I'm at his. But I already know all about that. I want to know about you guys. So you two finally..."

"Yeah. We finally." Beckett couldn't keep the little grin from playing across her lips, and her eyes wandered over to the messy palate of her bedroom with amusement. They definitely had.

"Oh where, your place? Bed or couch? Kitchen? I always kind of thought that if the two of you got together he'd be so wound up that he'd be dragging the clothes off of you wh-"

She was interrupted by a distinctly disgruntled male voice in the background.

"Esposito doesn't want to hear it," she concluded. "But you tell me details, girl. Right now."

"Well," Beckett teased. "Yes. Bed, couch, kitchen. And other places."

"Ooo, girl, I'm so happy for you! So why are you calling me instead of finding other places to christen?"

Beckett sighed, and absently tugged her comforter into a more respectable location. When she didn't answer, Lanie's voice softened. "Did something happen?"

"I sort of sent him home." Holding up a hand as if Lanie could see her, Beckett continued quickly, "He asked me to go with him. But he has a mother there, and a daughter. I've dealt with mothers, sure, though they usually leave to go home at the end of the night. But a daughter? He has a daughter, Lanie."

"A daughter who respects and looks up to you. She _likes_ you. So what's the problem?"

Sitting in her bedroom, alone for the first time in days, she couldn't think of one. "Huh," she muttered. She plucked at the comforter. "I already miss him," she said wistfully.

"Kate Beckett, if you do not go over there right now, I will leave my sexy detective just to come over to your place and drive you myself, but I don't want to do that. Don't make me. We've been having the kind of fun I don't want to miss."

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Half an hour later, Beckett was standing on Castle's doorstep with a duffle bag full of her things and her phone in her hand, unsure if she should call or knock. She should have called before she made it this far, but her mind had been in a million places at once and none of those places had been common sense. She had just sent him a text, _Are you home? _when the ding of the elevator had her glancing over her shoulder.

Well, shi-

"Kate!" Martha's voice rang out merrily across the hallway. "Darling, what are you doing here?"

She and Alexis were laden down with shopping bags, wearing matching Santa-themed scarves, and they tumbled together off of the elevator in a flurry of red hair and lingering cool air. They made it all the way to the door before Martha noticed the bag Beckett was carrying and raised an eyebrow with a knowing wink.

"Oh, you're staying with us. Wonderful!"

She gave a red-faced Beckett a kiss on each cheek big hug and opened the door. Beckett let her go in first, and then Alexis, who's face was just as red as Beckett's, gave her a small but sincere enough smile as she slipped through the door. She followed, and found herself in a winter wonderland, an ode to Christmas and all things bright and shiny. She blinked, looking around dumbly, until Martha's shrill voice distracted her from her surroundings.

"Richard! Look who we found."

Castle came out of his study distracted, a tablet in one hand and a whiskey glass in the other. He had changed into jeans and a sweater that, Beckett noticed, showed off his arms. "What, now?" He asked without looking up.

"Darling," Martha lowered her voice. "Beckett's here."

Castle actually dropped his tablet, looking up with a stunned expression. Beckett grimaced when the tablet cracked against the ground before smiling sheepishly at him with a one-shouldered shrug.

"Surprise," she said softly. When he didn't move, she dropped her bag and walked over to retrieve his tablet from the floor. Standing back up, she handed it back to him. "Doesn't look broken."

"Alexis, dear, let's go see if we have anything for dinner. I suspect we're going to have to order out tonight." Martha took the girl by the shoulders and tugged her away toward the kitchen.

Castle's jaw had dropped a little, the barest hint of a smile showing now, but he was still just staring at her. Beckett ducked her head and looked up at him through her lashes. "This is the part where you say you're happy I came, and that you are happy you don't have to spend the night alone, and where you save me from making small talk with your family."

There was another small beat of time, just long enough for her to begin to wonder if she really should have called first, and then his face broke out in a beaming smile. "You're here," he said in wonder. Setting the tablet down on the nearest flat surface, he gathered her up in a one-armed hug and buried his smile in her hair. "Of course I'm happy! Merry Christmas to me," he grinned.

"This isn't what you're getting for Christmas," Beckett countered.

He leaned back and held her out at arms length, his lips quirking in a pleased grin. "You got me something for Christmas?"

"Of course," she murmured. "But it's not exactly the kind of thing that you unwrap, so don't feel like you have to get me anything else."

Castle laughed. "Of course you're going to get something on Christmas." He held up his whiskey glass. "Want a drink? You're going to need one to deal with my mother. She's going to be formidable now that you showed up here with an overnight bag."

"I'm more worried about Alexis," Beckett confessed, "but I'll definitely take a drink."

.

...

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When Beckett's alarm woke them early the next morning, Castle groaned in protest. "Shhhh," he hissed, rolling over and pulling a pillow over his head. Beckett silenced her alarm, grinning sleepily.

"Baby," she murmured, sidling over to spoon him from behind, pressing her lips to his shoulder blade and dragging her toes up his calf.

"Hmm, no." He rolled over onto his back so he could look at her with half opened eyes. "'Babe' s'okay. 'Baby', not so much."

"Not a pet name," she giggled where she was tucked against his chest now. "A description. Come on, _baby_, it's time to get up."

"Nope." He turned and locked his arms around her and rested his cheek on her head. "Still asleep."

Beckett considered her options. Wrestle him and show him she's boss, dragging them both out of bed. Or giving in, snuggling a little closer, letting his body keep her warm from the ambient air. She let her eyes call closed again. It was barely even a question. It was two days to Christmas, she thought, it's not like anyone was going to write her up for being a little late.

"M'kay. Five more minutes."

But despite relaxing back into him, she couldn't stop her mind from working. "Last night went well," she whispered.

"Hmm? Mmhmm."

Beckett was learning that Castle was a very heavy sleeper. Rock like. And it took a long time for him to come all the way out of it. Which meant, among other things, that she could sometimes mess with him a little while he was only half awake. She trailed the tip of her index finger down his chest.

"Your mother made some valid points about marriage."

That did it. Castle snorted himself awake and his eyes popped open until white showed around the edges. She could literally feel his heartbeat pick up.

"Easy, Castle. I'm kidding." She smoothed her hand back up his chest to rest over his heart, waiting until the rhythm slowed again. "But I was serious that it went well. She was exactly as over the top and over the line as I expected."

"She was actually pretty subdued, for her. She didn't talk wedding night or babies or ask you to do any errands for her. She likes you." That made them both grin, and he kissed her forehead. "So does Alexis."

Beckett was quiet at that, rubbing her nose over his skin. She didn't disagree, exactly, but she felt it might take a little time to get to know her. The girl had been friendly, but polite. That was okay, though, there was plenty of time for more. "Come on Castle. Our five minutes are up."

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...

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The day at the precinct was slow. Almost everybody was spending the downtime eating the cookies in the break room or talking Christmas plans. Castle and Beckett had studiously avoided the question of Christmas plans for the greater part of the day. After taking a ribbing about their newly consummated status from Espo and Ryan, and then turning the tables on Esposito, they had settled into something that resembled their usual routine.

If they were spending more time talking with their heads close together, no one commented. Esposito and Ryan definitely noticed, but displayed unusual restraint. For the most part. There was the one time Beckett looked up and Ryan mimed the word 'baby' at her with air quotes, laughing. She hadn't even realized she'd said it.

Castle would kill her if he noticed, so she sent Ryan the kind of glare she normally saves for the interrogation room. He swiveled his chair around with a smirk.

When the clock ticked past five, Castle and Beckett were sitting side by side in the break room, munching on a tin of fudge they had confiscated as their own. Beckett caught herself just in time to prevent herself from brushing crumbs away from his chin and laughed at herself.

"What's funny?" he mumbled around a mouthful.

She touched her own chin and nodded at him.

"Oh, sorry. S'good," he grinned, and she laughed again.

"Yup, it's good." Her voice was low and intimate, and she leaned her shoulder against his. Castle swallowed and smiled, looking down at her there.

"Not just the fudge, hmm?"

"Nope. Not just the fudge."

He interlocked their fingers and brought their joined hands to his lap. "Look at us. Couple of saps."

They laughed together, but neither one pretended to deny it. "So," Beckett hummed, wiping her hands on a napkin.

"So," Castle agreed. "Ready to head home? "

Beckett raised an eyebrow archly. "Home?" she echoed.

"No, the loft. I said the loft," Castle backpedaled, eyebrows climbing up his forehead. "I know it's not... that's not... It's just a saying."

Beckett smiled but leaned away. "Actually, I'm going to go back to my apartment tonight."

Castle narrowed his eyes at her. "So you can surprise me by showing up again?"

"Not this time." Beckett sighed and grimaced at him, apologetic, her fingers curling around his knee. "I have an errand to run tonight, and tomorrow is Christmas Eve. I'm working, and you'll be home with your family. I don't think I should stay at the loft just to leave in the morning."

Castle nodded, but couldn't prevent himself from slinging an arm around her shoulders and trying one more time. "I know I've already asked more than once, but isn't there any way I can change your mind about Christmas? We'd love to have you."

The indecision she'd been feeling all day was pulling at Beckett's gut, and she wanted to tell him so. To tell him that she wasn't sure, that she wanted to be there and still be here. That he was the reason for that. But there were other factors that kept her on the fence, and it didn't seem right to keep him there too, constantly waiting for her to decide when the evidence suggested that her pattern would remain the same as it had for Christmases past.

"Thank you, Castle, really. But I don't think that can happen. It's my tradition," she said slowly, forming words around an idea that she had never expressed aloud before. "To be here for the victims. To give a little bit of myself that they might be a little less broken. To find them justice, which is the only gift that you could give them that might mean anything at all."

She broke off when her voice caught in her throat, face down turned to hide the tears that threatened to fall.

"Because you know better than anyone what they need," Castle finished for her, and she nodded. "But you could still come for dinner, or-"

"No." Beckett disentangled herself from him and stood up. Despite the stiffness of her stance, she cupped a hand at his cheek to soften her words before crossing her arms over her chest. "It's something else, too. It's that my dad and I, we never had Christmas again. We don't speak on the day, we don't discuss it. We don't talk until the end of January. Because when my mom died..." she paused here, and took a shaky breath. "It was January 9th and we hadn't even taken the tree down. That's the last time I had Christmas. It wouldn't feel right to have a real Christmas if I knew Dad was still alone somewhere, just slogging through it. I can't have Christmas without him."

Castle smiled, a reaction that Beckett couldn't begin to understand, and nodded. "Okay," he said simply. There was a light in his eyes and a strange sense of relief about him that made her narrow her eyes, but a quick flick of her eyes at the wall clock reminded her that she had to go if she was going to get her Christmassy errands done.

She leaned in and kissed him, mumbling an apology and a goodnight against his lips, and she turned and left.

Castle watched her go. Part of his heart was breaking; no matter how much progress she had made since Thanksgiving, it had still only been a month of working on her feelings toward the holiday and there was still so much grief in her. But the other part of his heart, the optimistic part that was so often where he turned for guidance, knew what she couldn't know yet. That it was going to be okay this year.

"Hey bro."

Esposito and Ryan walked in casually after she left, both with their hands in their pockets and glancing over their shoulders to make sure she was really gone.

"Everything alright?"

"Yeah," Castle said. "Everything's going according to plan. You guys are still in, right?"

"Yeah."

"Of course, bro. It's not like you signed us up for something terrible. And even if you had, it's Beckett. Of course we're in."

"Definitely," Ryan echoed.

"Good," Castle grinned. "She's going to be so surprised."

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A/N: Two more chapters! (For realsies this time.) And an epilogue that is a non-holiday situation, that I'm considering making just a stand-alone one-shot that exists in my A/U, because the mood is quite different from this main story. Not sure about that yet.

Thanks for reading!


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N**: Sorry for the delay!

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Castle leaned back into the couch cushions and took a deep pull from his hot chocolate. Christmas Eve was slowly winding down. The Christmas cake was cooling on the counter to be decorated in the morning, the pumpkin pie was in the oven. He, Martha, and Alexis were all bundled up in matching red and green snuggies, sipping hot chocolate and watching as Ebenezer Scrooge discovered the true meaning of Christmas.

Castle sighed contentedly and squished himself further into the cushions, rocking the whole couch in the process.

"Dad!" Alexis scolded without looking away from the television. Appropriately chastised, Castle settled back down, but he couldn't refocus on the movie. He glanced at his family all snuggled in beside him and the remnants of holiday celebration scattered messily around the room. They'd opened presents this evening instead of waiting for Christmas morning like they normally would and the evidence was still everywhere.

It was perfect. Almost perfect. But not 'almost perfect' in a sad, only-smiling-on-the-outside-to-hide-his-secret-pain kind of way. It was 'almost perfect' in that it _is _perfect, he couldn't ask for anything more, but next time it might be even more perfect. Next year, with maybe one more person present. No, he couldn't ask for more, but he could hope. His lips curved up into a smile and a happy warmth filled his chest at the idea of next year, and what it might feel like if things were even more perfect than they were now.

"That's kind of what you're doing for Beckett, isn't it Dad?" Alexis' voice startled him out of his daydream, and he squinted at her to focus.

"What?"

"Tomorrow, for Beckett. It's like she's the Cratchits and you're sending her a big surprise Christmas goose. Except of course you aren't Scrooge."

"And hopefully there won't be any fowl involved," Martha added with a delicately lifted pointer finger. Alexis laughed.

"Yeah, I guess you're right, kid. We can call it Operation Christmas Goose."

Alexis giggled, leaned all the way over Martha to give him a kiss on the cheek, and then gave her grandmother one, too, when she grumbled about all of the fuss.

"Well," Alexis said with flourish as she bounced off of the couch, "if we're getting up early tomorrow I should go to bed early tonight. Merry early Christmas, Gram."

She gave Martha another kiss and then hugged Castle more tightly than normal, whispering encouragement to him. "Merry Christmas, Dad. Tomorrow is going to be great."

Castle, already softened by the emotions of the evening, had to swipe at his eyes as Alexis jogged up the stairs to her bedroom. Martha stood too, gave him a knowing look, and brushed air kisses to each of his cheeks.

"You big softie," she muttered, amused. Then she pointed in the general direction that Alexis gone. "She's right, Richard. Nothing to worry about for tomorrow."

She left grandly, as always, leaving Castle alone in the living room to revel in the happiness his family gave him and hope that they were right. He flopped down on his back on the couch, just for a minute, and looked around. Every light that he'd hung was lit, the room smelled like pie and spice, and there were a few odd presents under the tree to be opened later tomorrow. One of those was for Beckett, and it made him smile. Of course her real present wasn't to be opened, but he'd wanted to get her something to open. He hoped she'd like it. He hoped she'd like all of it. If she didn't, well, it might take a while to recover from it.

But hey, she'd always liked it when he was intrusive, right?

Huh.

He was startled out of his mildly concerned musings when his phone rang. He reached overhead to grab it, lazy with the lingering contentment and the weight of a big supper. When he saw that it was Jim Beckett he sat up abruptly with a momentary thump of his heart. He felt that somehow Jim would know if he answered in a disrespectful way. Before he hit answer, he even ran a hand through his hair to straighten it.

"Mr. Beckett. How are you this evening?"

"I told you to call me Jim, Rick."

Castle bobbed his head and laughed, just a little nervous. This was _Beckett's dad_. "Alright, Jim. You would make a pretty good day a perfect one if you told me you'd found that box."

"I did at that."

"You'll bring it tomorrow?"

"I will."

Jim Beckett was a man of few words if Castle had ever met one, but Castle chose to believe that it didn't have anything to do with him. Though, it might have something to do with what he had asked of the man. Castle swallowed, the action of his throat making more noise than it should have.

"Listen, Jim. Thank you so much for this. But I know I asked a lot and if you'd rather not be there I could just stop by in the morning."

"No, Rick. Maybe it's time. And I'd like to see Katie." There was a long pause, before he added, "You've made her happy. Thank you for that." There was more implied by the weight of his words, but he left it unsaid. It was just as well. Castle understood.

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...

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Beckett stretched, muscles creaking and bones popping. It was late, and she was tired. Yawning, she cast a sideways glance at Lanie where she was sitting neatly in Castle's chair, one leg crossed over the other and an exasperated look on her face.

"C'mon, Kate. You shouldn't be here. Go home."

"Lanie, I'm fine."

"Isn't there anywhere else you'd rather be?"

Beckett rolled her head back on her neck and made a face. "You're here."

"Oh, honey, that's not the same. For one, I'm only for a minute. And only because this lug head forgot my present in his desk." She gestured over to where Esposito was digging through his desk with a growing sense of panic about him. "Or he thought he did." Lanie frowned at him for a second before bringing her attention back to her friend. "And when we leave we're going to go have a real Christmas, just the two of us. But what will you be doing when we leave? Still sitting here, alone, doing paperwork that could totally wait until next week?"

Beckett scowled. "It's important."

"I didn't say it wasn't. I'm just saying that the dead are already gone, Kate. You can't change that. But you can take advantage of what you have, and that handsome, funny, rich, smitten man who would love to have you over. Him, you could really make happy. You, you could really make happy. But these guys?" She gestured at a case file on Beckett's desk. "You can't make them happy."

"It's not for them. It's for their families."

"You know as well as I do that they won't be happy no matter what you tell them. In the long run, yes, what you do matters. But there is no short term fix. You can take the day off. You should."

When Beckett only gritted her teeth and glared at her desk, Lanie sighed. She glanced over at Esposito just in time to see him come up with a prettily wrapped box, turning to her with a triumphant look on his face. Good.

"Just... Think about what you really want, Kate. And if it isn't here in this office, then go get it." Lanie stood, and called over her shoulder as she and Esposito walked toward the door. "Merry Christmas."

Beckett smiled thinly, and sat back. What did she want? Well, a lot of things. What she wanted right now was a peppermint mocha. And maybe Lanie was right. Maybe it didn't matter if the work waited until after Christmas. She flipped her file shut with more force than was necessary. Coffee sounded good. She could think things over... over coffee.

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...

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Christmas morning dawned earlier than usual for Castle. He'd even set his phone to wake him, and as much as he was looking forward to the day he still grumbled at the angry alarm when it woke him up. But he made his way out to the main room, only to find Martha and Alexis already stripping some decorations. He smiled hard until he almost couldn't see for the way his cheeks rose up. When he spoke, his voice was rough with something other than sleep.

"Morning, ladies." He cleared his throat. "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas!" They called together, neither looking up from their task.

If they noticed his misty eyes, they didn't mention it. Castle kept an eye on them as he wandered over to pour himself a coffee and snag a cinnamon roll off of the plate on the counter. They must have been up for a while. He took a big bite, chewed, and swallowed. Then he twisted his face and pursed his lips. They were making him so happy, but he had to be sure. So he asked one more time.

"You guys are sure you don't mind doing this?"

"Of course not, Richard. This is wonderful thing you're doing and I'm just happy to be a part of it."

"Alexis?"

"I think it's great, Dad. And it means I got my present yesterday." She grinned cheekily, swinging around in a pert little circle with her new bag on her arm. She looked like a grown up, but Castle pushed the thought away.

"Like it?"

"Dad I already told you I love it!"

Castle grinned, teasing her was always satisfying.

"So," Castle finished off his breakfast and clapped his hands together and looked around. "Let's get packing. What are we bringing?"

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...

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Beckett rolled through the doors at the precinct at seven, but she only got as far as unbuttoning her jacket before her momentum failed her. It was the voice in her head, Lanie's voice actually, saying she didn't need to be here. Looking around, she could see that the only others in the building were those that had drawn the short straw, or who had volunteered to work the holiday so long as they could switch and have other days off.

Other than herself, _no one _was here just to be here.

Frozen, Beckett weighed her options as she stood beside her desk. Go home to an empty apartment? No. Stay here? She didn't have to look around again to know she didn't want to stay. Tradition or not, duty or not. No. Leave early and get a different, more satisfying kind of work done? Well, yes. That was the best option. One hand fluttered thoughtlessly over the scratchy wool of her coat as she stood, distracted.

She did sit, eventually, her legs dropping her into the chair as if they were on some kind of schedule and she was holding everything up. Somewhat surprised to find herself in her chair, she looked around, and didn't see a single reason that she needed to be at the precinct. No one would miss her if she left. But she could think of one person who was probably missing her right now. At least she assumed so. She was certainly missing him.

So she took a deep breath to fortify herself and made up her mind. She started buttoning up her coat again with one hand and swiped her phone unlocked with the other. By the time she'd found the number she wanted, she was completely buttoned up and standing, her foot tapping impatiently as she waited to see if her call would be answered. It was Christmas day, after all.

"Hello?"

She sagged with relief and then was bolstered up by a wave of adrenaline.

"Judge Markway? This is Detective Beckett, from the 12th precinct. I'm a friend of Richard Castle's."

"Ah, yes, Detective, I was just talking with Roy Montgomery about you last night. He said to expect a call, I just didn't expect one on Christmas day. Or so early in the morning."

Beckett grimaced and cast a sorrowful glance at her watch. "Yes, sir. I'm sorry to call so early today. Merry Christmas."

Despite the fact that the judge continued to speak in a generally disgruntled manner, he had what she needed. It only took a little convincing, _after all we are both already awake, sir_, and he agreed that she could get what she needed today, though he did it with a deep sigh. Beckett had a feeling she'd be owing him a favor in the not too distant future. Nevertheless, she was smiling as she ended the call and stepped on to the elevator.

As the doors closed, she cast a glance up at the mistletoe that was partly to blame and thank for starting this whole thing. The sad little sprig was completely dead at this point, but the ribbon around it was just as bright and festive as the day she and Castle had been caught under it, and it made her smile. She could feel the phantom press of his lips against hers and his hands at her waist, and felt a happy flush creeping up her neck. She'd see him soon, and surprise him with a gift that he'd never see coming. And a kiss. Or two. Or Three.

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Castle marched briskly into the precinct with a small army of grinning friends and family behind him. Alexis had peeked in ahead to check for Beckett, but he still looked all around as he walked in.

"No sign of her, perfect. Maybe she ran out for that morning coffee after all."

Their good mood and high energy had the job done in no time, and soon they were all just standing around, drinking coffee and waiting. Soon the coffee was cold, an hour had passed, and most of them had settled into some office chair or another and the conversation had dwindled down to nothing. The group sat still, uncomfortable in their silence. Papers rustled as the working officers made their way around the little group, and there was an occasional squeaky protest from one of the chairs. No one wanted to be the one to suggest that this wasn't going to happen the way they'd planned. They way Castle had planned. The elevator dinged, and they all looked up hopefully, heads snapping to attention in unison.

The doors slid open and a Chinese food delivery boy stepped off and headed down the hall in a hurry. They all deflated back to their previously slumped postures. Martha sent Castle a pitying look, which he staunchly ignored even as he was digging his fingernails into his palm. This was very close to becoming a disaster.

"Dude," Esposito began, but he only ended his thought with a shrug.

Ryan elbowed him, hard, but Lanie laid a hand on Esposito's forearm. "Not time to give up yet," she murmured.

The elevator dinged again and they all turned again, heads swiveling automatically, unable to stop from checking. This time, it was a familiar face that stepped off the elevator. Captain Montgomery strode off toward his office, eyes on his phone before glancing up. He came to a stop in surprise and surveyed the small crowd.

"Merry Christmas, everyone. Something going on that I should be aware of?"

"Well," Castle began, gesturing around him and toward Beckett's desk. Montgomery followed with his eyes and chuckled in amusement before looking back to Castle, waiting for him to continue. "Sir, we were, uh, waiting for Beckett to come back. You don't know where she is, do you?"

Montgomery eyed him sideways and pursed his lips. He'd actually had an interesting call with Markway this morning about how Beckett had woken him at the crack of dawn just to follow through on some crazy plan, but Montgomery didn't want to tell Castle that. So he shrugged casually.

"I'm pretty sure she was in earlier, but I don't think she's been here for most of the day. Have you tried calling her?"

Castle's eyes widened and he roughly smacked his own forehead. "Call her! Of course! Geez," he continued, muttering as he pulled out his phone to call her, "how could I have not thought of that?"

"He's not always good under pressure," Alexis intoned, much to the amusement of the detectives.

After a moment, Castle slid his phone back into his pocket and shook his head glumly. "Straight to voicemail."

Castle knew it was time to let everyone off the hook. Beckett had been here and left, but hadn't called him or her father. She obviously meant to spend the day alone. It was breaking his heart, but he knew he couldn't hold it against her. She'd never led him on about this day. So she wasn't exactly where she'd said she would be. It was his fault for trying to surprise her; she hadn't know he needed her exact location.

He sighed and finally made guilty eye contact with the little group.

"Thanks everyone. I guess you can all go home. Operation Christmas Goose is officially over."

Jim Beckett came over to him and clapped him on the shoulder once, a tightly pained expression on his face. "It was a good thought, Rick. I still appreciate it." He shrugged into his coat and wound his scarf around his neck. Jim was the first out the door, head bowed, shoulders sagging.

.

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Beckett clutched her gift bag to her chest as she strode down the street. She could see Castle's loft just a block ahead, and enthusiasm was quickening her pace. She couldn't wait to see his face when he opened his present, and the journey didn't take long in her amped-up state. She shook off the cold and ran her hand through her hair to shake it out as she stepped up to his door and knocked. Rocking excitedly on her heels, she waited patiently until she couldn't keep her eyebrows from lifting. She glanced at her watch out of habit, but of course it was still mid-morning. She knocked again, louder.

No answer.

An unwarranted chill skittered down her spine and she knocked again, hard enough this time to bruise her knuckles. When again she received no response, she dropped her gift bag unceremoniously to the ground (good thing it wasn't anything breakable), and quickly retrieved her lock pick kit from her bag. In no time at all she was stepping into Castle's loft, both hoping that she'd find him in here and feeling nervous that she might offend him in some way for barging in unannounced.

But the space was empty and dark. There were a few bunches of wrapping paper strewn about, dishes in the sink, a blanket thrown haphazardly across the back of the couch, three coffee cups on the coffee table. Instinctively, Beckett pulled off a glove and felt each one of the mugs in turn. Cold. No one had been here for hours. She bit her lip and turned around in a hopeless little circle. On the kitchen counter she saw two halves of an unfrosted cake, apparently covered hastily and left to be decorated later. Her brow wrinkled.

"Castle?" She called out timidly, though she wasn't expecting an answer. She received none. Why weren't they home? Had something happened?

She called out louder, an anxious ball in her stomach now. "Martha, Alexis? Hello? _Castle_?"

Where were they?

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**A/N**: If you're still here, thank you for sticking with this. One more chapter!


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